The Reaper
by fokker333
Summary: I am human. I am a reaper of souls. I am dead. I am alive. I am hollow. I am the perfect and complete hybrid of beings. I am Death itself. And I have come to collect my due.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter gasped in pain as the ropes binding him to the statue in the graveyard spontaneously vanished, dumping him unceremoniously in a heap on the ground. The Death Eaters surrounding him laughed sadistically as Harry gazed in horror at the now-resurrected Dark Lord Voldemort stood before him, the dead body of Cedric Diggory, fellow Tri-wizard Tournament Champion at his pale, bare feet.

"Pick up your wand, Harry," hissed the snake-like Voldemort, indicating with his own at Harry's wand, which lay abandoned a few meters away, where Harry had dropped it upon entering the graveyard.

Harry scrambled to it, clutching it desperately like the lifeline that the small length of wood was. "And now, bow."

Harry stood stubbornly, refusing to give in to the commands of the evil, twisted creature that stood before him, warped beyond recognition as a human being, the monster that had coldbloodedly murdered his parents that fateful night so many years ago, and who had tried, and failed, to murder him.

"You refuse to bow? Come now, Harry. Surely Dumbledore has taught you proper etiquette. I said BOW." Voldemort waved his wand, and Harry was plunged into the familiar sensation that he recognized as the Imperius Curse.

'Bow. Bow, Harry. Bow.' That voice, it was so inviting, beckoning for him to bow. 'Come on now, just bend at the waist, incline your head, bow.' But he didn't want to bow. Not to this thing in front of him. 'Bow. Bow. Bow.' No, he didn't want to bow. Why should he? What made this creature superior to himself that he should subject himself to such a humiliating act? 'Bow, Harry. BOW!'

"I won't!" His refusal rang out loud and clear in the graveyard, his voice defiant.

Voldemort raised a thin eyebrow on his pale, serpentine face. "You won't?" He laughed, the sound more like hissing than laughing. "I suppose I was wrong about Dumbledore, then. The senile old fool didn't even try to instill his beliefs of manners into you, did he? I said, BOW."

Harry felt an invisible force press down on his back, causing his spine to curve despite his mental protests. He struggled to resist but was unable to, finally succumbing to the caustic laughter of the Death Eaters around him. Voldemort himself laughed as well. "Very good, Harry," he said, as if complimenting a small child. "And now, we duel. Crucio!"

Harry screamed as indescribable pain lanced through his whole body. It felt as though his bones were melting, his blood boiling within his veins. It felt like hours, days even, before it ended, leaving him panted and coughing on the dry, dead grass of the graveyard where it seemed like his very worst nightmares were coming true.

"Crucio!" The pain struck again, and Harry screamed until his throat was raw and he could scream no more, and still the pain continued.

"What a fool Dumbledore is," scoffed Voldemort, letting up on the torture, leaving Harry curled up in a ball, futilely struggling to stand. "The Boy Who Lived, savior of the wizarding world. What high hopes he had for you, Harry. And yet, in the end, you were no different from your fool parents."

Harry felt a surge of anger at this insult towards his parents. "Shut... up... you bastard..." he croaked. It was all he could do in his current condition.

Voldemort was amused at this last attempt at defiance. "Oh, I don't think you're in any condition to order me to do anything, my dear Harry." He sighed dramatically, shaking his head and tsking at Harry's prone form. "I think I grow bored of this posturing, Harry. I will kill you now. And this time, you will die properly. No dear mummy this time to protect you." Harry could only watch and offer a silent apology to his friends, Dumbledore, and his parents. He had failed, and now Voldemort had returned.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry saw the green light and closed his eyes, wondering if this was what his parents' last moments had been. He heard a chorus of sharp gasps, then silence. Was he dead now? Was this heaven? Cautiously, he cracked open one eyelid, and also gasped at the scene before him. There, standing tall and proud between himself and the furious Voldemort, stood an imposing figure, white cloak billowing in the wind, a long, Japanese-style sword sheathed on his back. Although Harry had not seen it with his own eyes, the figure, who he now saw was dressed in black Japanese robes and had orange hair as bright as any of the Weasleys, had actually caught the bright green Killing Curse in an open palm and crushed it as easily as crushing an insect.

Harry started as he looked into his savior's eyes and saw that they were a swirling gold, with black scleras. "Are you alright?" the figure, who looked only a few years older than he himself was, asked. Harry was surprised at his warm and friendly voice despite his terrifying eyes.

Still recovering from the effects of the Cruciatus, Harry managed to gasp out, "I'm fine," which seemed to be enough to satisfy the young man, who turned and regarded the circle of Death Eaters and Voldemort himself, who now all had their wands pointed at him, with almost an amused look. The figure reached a hand over his back, grasping the hilt of the sheathed katana with his right hand. Harry was aghast. Surely this man wasn't planning to take on several dozen Death Eaters and Voldemort himself with a Muggle weapon!

That was exactly what the figure intended, apparently. He drew the blade slowly, the rasp of steel against sheath chilling in the cool night air. Harry was startled to see that the blade's color was not silver, like he had expected, but rather midnight-black. The blade seemed to absorb all light, both natural from the moon and magical from the lit wands of the Death Eaters around them.

"Who are you, that you dare stand between Lord Voldemort and his goal?" asked Voldemort, his rage and anger almost palpable in the air.

"Me?" the orange-haired man replied, amusement laced in his tone. "And why should I not stand against you?"

"You ignorant child!" Voldemort hissed. "Here you stand, facing the most powerful dark wizard in all of Britain and you don't even know who I am? I am Lord Voldemort! I have conquered Death itself and rose from the grave again! You have no idea that power you face, Muggle!"

The figure raised an eyebrow. "Muggle? You must mean a mortal. A living, human being." He threw his head back and laughed out loud. "No, I think you're mistaken, Lord Voldemort," he said, putting sarcastic emphasis on the Dark Lord's self-styled title. "You are the one who has no idea what power you're facing. As for who I am..."

Harry gasped as black tendrils of energy emenated from his savior's body, kicking up dust and blowing the grass flat. His golden pupils seemed to glow in the moonlight as the wind picked up, gusting through the graveyard and causing the white cloak, which Harry saw had something emblazoned upon the back, a wide diamond with a cross and two horizontal lines inscribed within it, to flutter madly. The Death Eaters, growing nervous at this sudden display of power, began to back up, while Voldemort himself stood his ground, wand pointed at the man in the white cloak.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry wanted to yell out a warning to the cloaked man as the deathly green curse sped straight towards his face, but he acted before the words even left Harry's throat. Faster than the blink of an eye, he flicked his midnight-black sword up, batting aside the supposedly unblockable Unforgivable as if it were no more than a tennis ball. The curse ricocheted into the sky, leaving a trail in the clouds.

"You are foolish, mortal," the cloaked man said, lowering the blade again, "to try to use a curse that causes death against me."

"Who, no, what are you?" asked Voldemort, and Harry could see that the Dark Lord's wand was now shaking slightly.

The cloaked man sheathed the long blade onto his back, instead drawing a shorter one from his waist, which morphed into a massive black scythe that was taller than he was. Harry gaped at the ornate designs inscribed not only on the blade but also on the wooden shaft of the deadly, beautiful weapon. "I am human. I am a reaper of souls. I am dead. I am alive. I am hollow. I am the perfect and complete hybrid of beings. I am Death itself. And I have come to collect my due."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurosaki Ichigo, captain of the Twelfth division of the Gotei 13, gazed at his finished project with a gleam in his eye. There on the table lay a seemingly simple short blade, similar in length and dimension to a _wakizashi_, a short sword. But as its creator, the genius knew that there was much, much more to the simple blade than meets the eye. Laying a hand gently on the leather-bound hilt, he picked it up, the steel of the blade rasping gently against the table. Holding it vertically in front of him, Ichigo pulsed his reiatsu, letting the hollow side overwhelm the shinigami side. He focused his swirling black reiatsu into the blade, and it shimmered as it sucked in Ichigo's power. In an instant, the short blade morphed, transforming in an explosion of black into a giant scythe, easily seven feet long, with a blade that was as broad as Ichigo's head. He had designed it specifically to mimic the English legend of the Grim Reaper. Ichigo laughed, the sadism of his hollow personality shining through. This was going to be fun.

~Flashback, two weeks ago~

"Kurosaki-taicho, you will be sent on a long-term mission to the living world," Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryuusai announced without preamble at the start of a captain and vice-captain's meeting.

The gathered shinigami looked at the captain-commander in mild surprise. It had been decades since a captain had been sent on a long-term mission, the last being Hitsugaya Toushiro's stint to Yomiyama Town to investigate the actions of a Vasto Lorde-class hollow there. It hadn't gone well.

"With all due respect, Yamamoto-soutaicho," the orange-haired captain said, taking a small step forward, "What is the urgency of this mission that merits the presence of a captain?"

"A captain as strong as Kurosaki-taicho, to boot," added Toushiro. Ichigo, despite being the youngest among the ranks of the Gotei 13 captaincy, had quickly risen to the top of the ranks due to the boost of power from merging with his hollow.

Yamamoto rumbled, "That would have been explained if you youngsters had the patience for me to explain the details of the mission." There was slight amusement in the old captain-commanders tone, and several captains chuckled. He continued on in a more serious manner. "All of you know of the event that occurred in Great Britain in the world of the living almost fifteen years ago, correct?"

The captains and vice-captains nodded, many grimacing at the memory. There had been a man by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort, who had gone on a killing spree in an attempt to take over Britain. Because it was Gotei 13 policy not to interfere in the matters of mortals, even if they were 'wizards,' who had learned to make use of their small amounts of reiatsu somewhat, the shinigami who were stationed in Britain had had to work over time, sending the hundreds of souls from Voldemort's murders to Soul Society.

Yamamoto continued, "Tom Riddle's followers, colloquially known as 'Death Eaters,' went into hiding when Voldemort disappeared. However, recently, their activity has increased, and the Onmitsukidou has gathered information that there may be an attempt to restore Riddle to a functioning body."

Mutters echoed in the room as the captains and vice-captains contemplated this action. Although many in the wizarding world thought Riddle dead, the shinigami knew otherwise. He had actually split his soul with the darkest of rituals, a terrible offense to Soul Society. However, the Gotei 13 were unable to pass judgment upon the man until he had a solid body. When the first fragment of his soul was purified, the others would follow suit.

"I have decided that as punishment for his crimes, the man known as Tom Marvolo Riddle shall be permanently removed from the cycle of reincarnation. Hell is too good for a creature as him." Ichigo raised an eyebrow at this announcement. If purified normally by a shinigami, Voldemort's soul would have surely be sent to Hell due to the many murders he had committed in his life. That the captain-commander would approve of Riddle's permanent removal from the cycle of reincarnation… well, this was serious stuff.

"Kurosaki-taicho, you shall infiltrate the wizarding school of Hogwarts, as that is the most likely place where Riddle will attack after regaining a functioning body. There, you shall wait, without drawing too much suspicion to yourself, until Riddle regains a body. Then, you shall kill him. Permanently."

Ichigo nodded, a slightly bloodthirsty grin etching itself onto his face. The captains and vice-captains were used to these bouts of hollowish personality by now, and simply ignored it. "With pleasure, Yamamoto-soutaicho. And I have just the tool to get the job done."

Yamamoto nodded in approval. "Very well. You have two weeks to prepared, and then you shall go to England in the world of the living. Any and all resources you require to complete this mission shall be provided to you. Good luck. Dismissed!"

Ichigo immediately departed, headed to his underground laboratory in the Twelfth division, where he set to work on the weapon that would destroy Tom Marvolo Riddle's soul.

~End flashback~

Ichigo released his reiatsu from the black scythe, and it shrank down once again to its wakizashi form. He sheathed it in a specially-made scabbard that ran horizontally across his back, crossing with his own zanpakutou, which was sheathed vertically across the white haori that Ichigo wore. He walked over to the corner of the underground room, where a small bag about the size of a knapsack was sitting innocuously on the ground. In fact, Ichigo himself had created the bag as a pocket dimension, where all manners of materials could be stored without arousing suspicion. He had already packed everything a week ago and was ready to depart on the mission.

Making his way from his division with the movement technique that he himself had created, a cross between the shinigami flash-step and the hollow sonido, he landed in front of the Thirteen division next door, where a familiar short figure was waiting for him. Ichigo leaned down and kissed his wife, Kuchiki Rukia, the captain of the Thirteenth division, tenderly. She had been promoted when Ukitake Jushiro, the previous captain of the Twelfth division, had retired due to his illness. "I'll try to visit regularly," Ichigo promised her. "I'm not sure how much free time I'll have, but I'll make use of as much of it as possible to visit."

Rukia nodded. "Take care of yourself, Ichigo," she said softly. "We don't know the full extent of the powers of these 'wizards,' and how well they can control their reiatsu. If you need backup, don't hesitate to call for it."

Ichigo nodded. They embraced one last time, and Ichigo departed, making his way to the main senkai gate in the Seireitei. Rukia watched his departing figure and turned, her white haori billowing in the slight breeze and smiled fondly at her Strawberry. She walked back into the Thirteenth division barracks. She had recruits to train.

Ichigo skidded to a halt in front of the senkai gate. He was mildly surprised to see Kuchiki Byakuya, his brother-in-law and fellow captain, as well as Hitsugaya Toushiro and his wife Momo, waiting for him. They had become close friends when Ichigo had first become a captain, after invading the Soul Society and rescuing Rukia from an execution that was arranged by the traitor, Aizen Sousuke, who was now dead, killed by Ichigo's own hands.

"Byakuya, Toushiro, Momo, what's up?" he said, his surprise evident in his tone of voice.

Toushiro smirked. "Are you that surprised that we came to see you off?" he said, acting offended. The two had become like brothers in the years since Ichigo had become a captain, and his wife Momo was like a sister to him as well.

Byakuya nodded beside the white-haired prodigy. The stoic noble had also become close friends with Ichigo, and had given his approval when Ichigo finally asked for his sister's hand in marriage after several years of courtship. "Indeed," he agreed, a small smile on his face. "I also came to see you off. After all, is that not the duty of a brother-in-law?"

Momo, who had finally been promoted to the captain of the Fifth division, smiled from beside her husband. Because Ichigo and Toushiro were close, she was also close friends with the orange-haired captain by extension. "I'm sure Rukia has already told you, but do be careful," she said softly. "She'll never forgive you if you get hurt." All the captains smirked at this, knowing Kuchiki Rukia's infamous temper towards her Strawberry.

Ichigo grinned. "Thanks, guys," he said. They shook hands, and Ichigo turned to the senkai gate, taking a deep breath. He hadn't left the Soul Society in quite a while, not since his father and sisters had finally moved to Seireitei permanently, his father taking up Kaname Tousen's position as captain of the Ninth division, and his sisters Karin and Yuzu becoming the vice-captain of the Fifth division and Thirteenth division respectively. Ichigo took one last look at the Seireitei behind him, and walked through the gate.

#

Alright, guys. Due to popular, and I mean _popular_, demand, this is going to be a multi-chapter story. I'm going to be updating fairly often in the last few weeks of summer, since I have time, but the chapters are going to be somewhat short, as I'm still focused on writing my main story, _When Genius Meets Death_. As some of you may have noticed, this story borrows some elements from _When Genius Meets Death_, namely the fact that Ichigo is a genius, has merged with his hollow, and is captain of the Twelfth division, but is happening long after the timeline from that story. It is not necessary that you read _When Genius Meets Death_, but if you're curious about the beginnings of Ichigo's life as a genius shinigami, feel free to check it out (shameless self-advertising).

This chapter is focused mostly on Ichigo, and I'm not sure at this point whether it's going to be fixed POV from Ichigo's side, or Harry's side, or alternating. We'll see, I suppose.

Thanks so much for all the support I got for the first chapter, I had written it mostly out of whim. Hopefully it'll evolve into something much more. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys next time!

~fokker333


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo took all the sights and sounds of the dingy little bar in with a practiced eye and a blank face. The Leaky Cauldron had to be the dirtiest pub he had ever seen. Then again, he hadn't seen many pubs, at least in the human world, in his life. He walked up to the bartender, who was busy wiping out the inside of a glass with a dirty rag. Ichigo shuddered. He didn't think he was going to buy a drink here.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, sir," the bartender said. "My name's Tom" He tried not to gawk at this newcomer's choice of clothing. The man was tall, garbed in total black. He took in the man's long wool overcoat, shiny black boots, and, strangely enough, the muggle firearm holstered at the man's waist. "Care for a drink?" Tom offered, indicating the array of bottles behind him.

"No, thanks," Ichigo said. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. I'm here as a representative of the magical government of Japan." He noted the bartender's start at his words. Magical Japan was known for its policy of isolationism from the rest of the magical world. That there was an envoy from Japan in England could only mean that magical Japan was finally coming out of that state of isolation.

"It's an honor, Mr. Kurosaki," the bartender said. "How can I help you today?"

Ichigo motioned upstairs, where he knew the bedrooms were located. "I was hoping to find lodging for a few days, at least until September 1."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "September? That's when Hogwarts begins." Suddenly, realization dawned. "_Ah_," he said, nodding knowingly. "You're here for _that_. Your government wants to see what the tournament's like, eh?" he asked.

Ichigo nodded. "That's right," he responded smoothly. "If magical Japan wants to join the rest of the magical world, we would like to know what the magical progress is with the various countries, as well as how the, ah, politics work." Ichigo grimaced. He hated politics. "So I will be watching the Tri-wizard Tournament as a representative of the magical government of Japan, as well as added security. I do have quite an… unusual skillset," he said discreetly.

"I see," Tom said. "You would like a room until the school year begins? That's three weeks then. Including meals, the total would be two galleons and four sickles. You do know how British wizarding money works, yes?"

Ichigo nodded, handing over the required coins. "I also heard that the Quidditch World Cup is being held in England this year. Could you perhaps give me directions to the event?"

Tom nodded. "Certainly. Although I doubt that there is any room in the campgrounds left. They're booked full," he said. "You're room will be room 15. Do you need help carrying your things up?"

"Ah, no, I can find my room myself, thanks. And no, I have all my belongings here with me," Ichigo said. He would prefer that none of these British wizards observe the workings of his pocket dimension bag. It was, after all, top secret. He headed up the stairs, ignoring the glances the other occupants of the pub threw at his clothing, his hair, and the customized black M1911 kidou gun holstered at his hip. He had decided not to carry his zanpakutou around openly. After all, a handgun could be easily concealed by his overcoat, and he didn't think that the wizards would take kindly to him carrying a katana sheathed on his back.

Ichigo twitched a bit as he went up the stairs. The gigai he was wearing was only a prototype, something he and Urahara had been working on to allow the shinigami wearing it more access to their reiatsu. The current model allowed for flash-step and limited use of kidou. However, the modifications made the syncing process with the shinigami a tad more difficult than usual. He would have to send a Hell Butterfly to Urahara letting him know about the problem, so that hopefully the next batch would be better than the one he was wearing.

Ichigo shut the door behind him, locking it and blocking the entrance with a strong kidou shield. It was probably unnecessary, but he never took any chances. He plopped the bag down on the bed and opened it. Plunging a hand inside up to his shoulder, he rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He withdrew his arm, clutching an ornately carved piece of wood. It wasn't technically a wand. Ichigo had discovered in his study of wizards' use of magic that the wands served as a conduit for them to use their reiatsu, and the core of the wands allowed for manipulation of their reiatsu as 'spells'. This one was merely a shell with no core inside, which simply meant that Ichigo could perform kidou, as well as channel his zanpakutou's powers, without arousing suspicion. Wandless magic was unheard of, but the kidou spells would merely be mistaken for Japanese magic. After all, he doubted that any of the British wizards had ever seen Japanese magic in action.

He thought of his cover story and smirked a bit. It had only taken a bit of manipulation and sweet-talking for him to convince the magical government of Japan to accept him into their ranks, and to send him as an ambassador to Britain. As a matter of fact, Japan had already been considering coming out of isolation. It only needed a push in the right direction, and Ichigo had provided that. However, none of the mortals knew that it was all orchestrated by a shinigami in order to access the big prize: Lord Voldemort.

#

Ichigo looked down at the massive stadium from his perch high in the air. He was in his gigai but was standing on a platform of solidified reishi. He had cast a kidou to make himself invisible, although the all-black outfit he wore also helped conceal him from sight against the night sky, and was watching the Quidditch World Cup game with interest. He was impressed. That the wizards were able to conceal such a large event from the non-magical humans, the 'muggles' as the wizards called them, was quite the feat, especially with their levels of reiatsu, which was even less than the average shinigami, although it was still higher than a normal human's. He wondered idly if that meant that wizards could see shinigami. He would have to conduct a test to find out.

Ichigo could tell despite knowing next to nothing about the sport that the wizards on brooms whizzing about below him were world-class. Both opposing teams worked seamlessly together, and he couldn't help but think that if they were shinigami, whichever division they were assigned to would be extremely lucky. He nodded in approval as the Bulgarian seeker, his scarlet robes billowing, managed to catch the tiny golden Snitch. Of course, Ichigo had known exactly where the small golden ball had been the entire game, but the human wizards didn't have the advantage that he had with superhuman eyesight, reiatsu sensing, and decades of experience. Ichigo clapped along with the crowd, although none could see him. He was interested in the wizarding world. The reports from the Onmitsukidou were not nearly detailed enough.

#

A few hours later, Ichigo was strolling through the rows of tents as the merry revelers celebrated the victory of the Irish over the Bulgarians. He could hear loud shouting and several bangs from the other side of the campground and assumed that it was merely some people who had perhaps a little too much to drink. The wizarding security would surely take care of it. He had been authorized by Yamamoto to intervene if there was a Death Eater attack, but he doubted that this was the case. There was always the minute possibility, however, and so he stuck around just in case.

His keen hearing picked up the sound of laughter. It wasn't the laughter of celebration, however. No, this was a different kind of laughter, a kind of laughter that he was very familiar with. This was the laughter of people who enjoyed harming others. There was a scream, piercing the air. "Death Eaters!"

The reaction to this cry was immediate. He saw tent flaps peel aside as the wizards peered out at the screamer, then immediately recoil in horror as they caught sight of the group of wizards, a hundred or so, tightly packed and wearing black robes and bone-like masks, marching through the campgrounds, blasting aside tents and trampling them underfoot. Ichigo felt anger surge through him as he saw the objects of the Death Eaters' laughter, the four figures hovering high above the crowd, struggling to keep their decency as they were flipped end over end by the Death Eaters below them. He recognized the campground manager and his family, and his blood boiled at the sight of the two children being tossed around like ragdolls.

Ichigo looked around at the fleeing wizards and decided that if they weren't going to do anything, he would. He was not going to allow these Death Eaters to do whatever they wanted with the innocent humans. He had to act.

#

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled, resisting the urge to punch the blonde Slytherin who stood before them, taunting them.

"Have it your way, Potter," said Malfoy, sporting a malicious grin. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

Harry was about to retort, as was Ron, when suddenly the shouts from the crowd increased. There was a sudden glow of sickly green as dozens of spells were thrown from the group of Death Eaters. The trio whirled around to see what had caused the reaction from the Death Eaters.

Harry's jaw dropped as he saw a single figure, visible only due to the light of the burning tents around him, standing defiantly against the crowd of Death Eaters. Hermione gasped from beside him, clapping a hand to her mouth in horror. "He'll be killed!" she whispered. Harry couldn't help but agree. To stand against so many of them, well, it was suicide. Even if the figure weren't killed by a stray spell, he would no doubt be trampled underneath the feet of the relentlessly marching horde.

"You need to let them down," a voice called out, carrying over the sounds of chaos, directed towards the Death Eaters. It must have been amplified somehow, there was no other way Harry could hear him over the cacophony of sound.

A chorus of laughs arose from the crowd. "What are you going to do about it?" someone called mockingly. More laughs. Harry also silently wondered. What could the man possibly do to help the muggles?

He gaped as the man disappeared in a billow of black robes, reappearing a moment later in his original position facing the crowd of Death Eaters, the Roberts family safely deposited on the grass behind him. They were quickly whisked away by Ministry wizards, while an uproar arose, both from the Death Eaters and the fleeing people, who had stopped to watch the confrontation, their curiosity overwhelming their fear.

"That's impossible!" said Ron. "Nobody can apparate into mid-air!" Harry nodded. It was the only way the man could possibly have rescued the muggles so quickly. How he had done it was a mystery.

"Now that that's out of the way, why don't you all just go back to where you came from?" said the figure, which Harry now saw had bright orange hair, brighter and more vivid than any of the Weasleys.

An enraged voice called from the mob of Death Eaters. "Get him!" Instantly, a dozen or more spells were thrown straight at the man. Hermione looked away, unable to watch as the man was surely about to be killed. There was no way he could dodge so many spells at once.

Harry stared at the scene, unable to look away, his eyes glued in horror to the figure clothed in black, standing defiantly before the glowing spells that threatened his life. He watched as the man extended a hand, palm facing the mob, and said something which Harry didn't understand. An instant later, the spells impacted.

"Impossible…" Harry whispered as each and every spell ricocheted off a glowing, semi-transparent wall that had appeared before the man an instant before the spells hit him.

"What happened?" asked Hermione, who had uncovered her eyes just in time to see the man unscathed.

"He used some sort of shield," said Ron. "He blocked every one of the spells!"

"That's not possible," she said, echoing Harry's exclamation. "There isn't a shield spell strong enough to repel so many powerful spells at once!"

The entire campground had grown silent when they saw this. The Death Eaters were shocked that their attack had been so easily deflected, and the fleeing crowd were silently hoping that this man would protect them from the threat.

"You know," said the man conversationally, and Harry shuddered at the sight of his eyes, which glowed a bloodthirsty golden in the firelight, "I _was_ going to let you go peacefully as long as you released the family, but now…" He laughed, and the sound sent shivers down Harry's spine. Hermione and Ron shuddered at the sound, both also shaken at the pure killing intent behind it. "Now, you've managed to piss me off."

The man had shifted into a fighting stance, his body tensed as he prepared to spring. Harry recognized the position vaguely as a martial arts stance, something he had seen once on the television when his uncle had been watching some show or another. "And let me tell you something," the man continued. "Pissing me off? Not a good idea."

Harry blinked, and suddenly the man was in the middle of the mob, hands and feet lashing out at the startled Death Eaters. They dropped like flies beneath the onslaught, and Harry wondered how it was humanly possible for the man to punch and kick as quickly as he did. The trio jumped back as a Death Eater flew from the mob, landing a few feet in front of them, his body propelled by the force of the kick that the man had delivered to his chest.

In an instant, a dozen Death Eaters were felled, knocked unconscious by the mysterious stranger. More would have fallen had a shout not come from somewhere behind the trio, the shouter hidden by the trees. "Morsmordre!"

There were screams and shouts of horror as a giant green figure appeared in the sky, the image of a snake emerging from a skulls mouth. Panicked shouts could be heard from the crowd of Death Eaters, and the conscious ones disapparated with a loud _crack_, leaving their unconscious fellows at the mercy of the Ministry security personnel, who now came forward to take them into custody.

"Where did he go?" wondered Ron, and Harry realized that the mysterious figure who had faced down a hundred Death Eaters and singlehandedly taken out a dozen of them in mere seconds had vanished, most likely lost among the crowd who were now fleeing again, running from the glowing green figure in the air. He had no time to wonder who the man was, however, as the trio now had to duck a dozen stunning spells as Ministry officials appeared around them, looking for the caster of the spell that had so many people panicking.

#

Ichigo dusted off his hands as he walked calmly away from the scene. "Well, that was fun," he remarked to himself. "It's been a while since I had a good, hand-to-hand spar. Although that really couldn't be counted as a spar," he muttered in disdain. "These wizards are so physically _weak_. Their dependence on magic has made them soft." He shook his head and disappeared in a flurry of black, heading back to London. He had made quite the entrance, and he didn't want to be caught up by the media ruckus that was sure to follow. There would be enough of that when he appeared as a representative of the Japanese government at Hogwarts.

#

IMPORTANT NOTE: I guess I didn't make it clear enough, but the events in chapter one happen much later than those in chapter two. If this chapter didn't make it clear, chapter one was a time-skip to the end of the year, during the Third Task. The rest of this story will follow a linear timeline, starting here at the Quidditch World Cup and proceeding through the rest of the school year.

Daily updates? Eh, why not? At least until school starts, that is. This one is a bit longer than the first two, but don't expect daily updates to be as long as the chapters in _When Genius Meets Death_. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and that nobody's confused anymore in regard to the time difference between chapters one and two. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!

~fokker333


	4. Chapter 4

First and only disclaimer of the story: I don't own Bleach or Harry Potter. They belong to Tite Kubo and J.K. Rowling and affiliates respectively. Some material may not be suitable for younger readers. This chapter contains dialogue and material taken directly from _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. I do not own any of this material, it belongs to J.K. Rowling only.

#

_Death Eater Attack at the World Cup! _

_Ministry Inept, Dark Mark Appears Over Chaos_

_Mysterious Stranger Responsible for Capture of Fourteen_

Ichigo glared in annoyance at the bold headlines screaming up at him from the page of the newspaper as he sat down for breakfast. It seemed at the press in the human world, even in the wizarding world, was always meddling in other peoples' affairs. He had elected to wear his black overcoat today, as well as a black Victorian-style hat that covered his face and bright orange hair. He had heard several of the pub's occupants chattering excitedly over the newspaper article, and he didn't want to attract any attention to himself. It would simply complicate his mission if the press got too nosy with his personal business, considering his entire identity was forged and fake, no matter how well done it was.

His sharpened senses detected a large group of people entering the pub, and he looked up casually to see a family of red-heads, a bushy-haired girl, and a black-haired boy walk into the room. They sat down with a clatter at the table next to his and began talking. He began listening to their conversation discreetly, since several of the red-headed children and the other two looked about the age of Hogwarts students. Perhaps they would give him some insight as to what he could expect.

"Looks like the Daily Prophet didn't get a good look at that stranger at the World Cup," Harry commented as he sipped his water. "Weird. You'd think that with all those people _somebody_ would have seen what he looked like."

"Well, you know what people are like with this sort of thing," said Arthur Weasley with a wry smile. "They tend to exaggerate." He frowned at the article lying on the table before them. "The press does it too, blow things out of proportion. 'Ministry inept…' for Pete's sake. It seems Rita Skeeter's at it again."

Harry ignored a pompous outburst from Percy and turned to his two friends. "Say, I really do wonder who that guy was. That was some incredible magic he performed back then. Blocking all those spells, apparating into mid-air, I didn't think that sort of stuff was possible."

"It isn't," Mr. Weasley cut in. "If what you kids say you saw him do was true, then that wasn't any sort of magic as we know it," he said, a serious look on his face. "It was something that we've never seen before. In fact, the Ministry is already on the hunt for this stranger. The official stance is that they want a statement from him, maybe to thank him." He lowered his voice, whispering conspiratorially, "But rumors have been floating around the office that he's wanted by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Harry choked and spluttered on his mouthful of eggs. "What?" he managed to get out as Ron pounded on his back. "He saved those muggles! Why would he be wanted?"

"Rumor has it that some of the Death Eaters that were captured were some high-standing pureblood wizards. I heard they pulled some strings to get out of punishment and now they're after that guy's blood for physical harm," Mr. Weasley said, shaking his head in disapproval. "I haven't heard any names though…"

"I bet Lucius Malfoy was one of them," Harry said angrily. "Remember how we saw Malfoy in the woods?" Before he could get started on a rant on how Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, however, he was interrupted.

"Excuse me," Ichigo cut in smoothly. He knew it was a risk to talk to them, especially as it seemed that they had seen him at the World Cup, but he had to get some information as soon as possible. Besides, his hat was covering his hair and most of his face, so as long as it didn't slip, nobody should be able to recognize him. He had seen plenty of shady characters in the pub, so they would probably assume he was just another of them.

"Yes?" asked the red-haired mother. "How can we help you, sir?"

"I just have a few questions," he said. "You kids are Hogwarts students, yes?"

Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys nodded in confirmation. Ichigo smirked mentally. Perfect, these would be excellent sources of information. "What do you think of the Tri-wizard Tournament?"

"The what?" the students chorused together.

Before Ichigo could explain, the parents shushed him quickly. "It's a secret," Mrs. Weasley said hastily, shooting Ichigo a secret glance. Ichigo grinned, playing along. Clearly, the students didn't know anything about the Tri-wizard Tournament. Perfect. The parents had probably been hiding it from them for a while, which meant that now they had an outside person who clearly knew something they didn't, the students would probably seek him out and ask him questions.

"Sorry," he said, shooting a rueful smile at the students. "It's a secret." Before the teens could ask any more questions, Ichigo continued, "Who's Rita Skeeter?" She had seemed like a person who could potentially compromise his disguise at Hogwarts.

"A reporter," said Mr. Weasley disgustedly. "She has a reputation for blowing stories way out of proportion. I hear she has a quill of some sort that allows her to twist the words of whoever she interviews into whatever she wants to say. Everything she writes is slanderous lies!" The others nodded in agreement.

Ichigo cursed inwardly. If this woman were as bad as they said she was, he had to be extra careful. He couldn't use force to silence the woman, since she probably wasn't a Death Eater. That meant that he could only use wit to outsmart her. "Thanks for answering my question," he said, nodding to the group at the table.

He was about to turn away when the black-haired boy, Harry, called out to him, "Hey, you didn't introduce yourself!" He was quickly shushed by the girl, but Ichigo turned back and grinned at the boy.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said quietly, causing the kids to look at each other with confused looks. "After all, the school year is starting soon, and I wouldn't want to miss it for the world."

#

After a while, the man wearing black went up the stairs to his room. Harry cast the retreating figure's back a curious glance, then turned back to his friends. "Who do you think that was?" he wondered.

"Maybe the new Defense teacher?" said Ron, shrugging. "He did imply that he was gonna be at Hogwarts this year… What I really want to know, though, is what he knows about this 'Tri-wizard Tournament' that he mentioned. It's gotta be the same as what Mum and Dad have been hiding."

Hermione frowned. "He did seem a bit strange, though. I think his overcoat was the same style as the one that the man at the World Cup was wearing. Do you think he could be the same guy?"

Harry nodded. "He never took off that hat that he was wearing while he talked, and he was intentionally hiding his face. Maybe he didn't want people to recognize his hair."

Ron shuddered. "Or his eyes," he said quietly. "Do you remember those eyes from that night? It looked like they were glowing golden… and the feeling I got from just looking at them…"

"It seemed like he wanted to kill something," Harry said, nodding. He himself had felt chills run up his spine that night when he saw those glowing eyes…

"His voice was completely different, though," Hermione mused. "The man from the World Cup's voice was deeper, more raspy, than his was."

"It might have been a spell," suggested Harry. "Either he changed his voice to be more scary, or he changed it to seem less suspicious. His normal voice could either be all raspy like at the World Cup, or normal like just now."

"I don't think he's evil, though," said Hermione, clearly thinking hard. "After all, he attacked those Death Eaters and rescued the poor muggles. He has to be against the Death Eaters."

"He was scary, though," said Ron. "Even if he was fighting the Death Eaters, he had to have been Dark. The way he dressed, his eyes, that laugh…"

Harry frowned. "I wonder what Dumbledore is thinking, allowing that sort of person at Hogwarts. As if the dementors last year weren't enough… that's assuming this guy does in fact have permission to be at Hogwarts. Maybe he's a spy."

"A spy for whom?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Voldemort?" suggested Harry, ignoring the flinches his friends had at the name. "I somehow get the feeling that he isn't dead like everyone thinks he is. He _was_ attached to the back of Quirrel's head first year."

Hermione cut off Ron's complaints. "Well, assuming Voldemort _is_ still alive, why would a spy working for him attack his own Death Eaters?" They had no answer for that. Hermione continued, "I think you two are jumping to conclusions. We can't pass judgment on this guy until we can observe him more frequently. If he's going to be at Hogwarts, it'll be a perfect opportunity to figure him out."

Harry and Ron nodded. This stranger in black had piqued their interests and suspicions, and they wanted to know who exactly he was. There was only a few days left before the start of school. They would not have to wait long.

#

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

Outside the large doors in the hallway, Ichigo rolled his eyes. He had met with the headmaster to discuss the matters of his lodgings within the school as the official envoy from the magical government of Japan, and the old man had seemed quite… long-winded. He waited for the old wizard to finish speaking and finally introduce him. Ichigo rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He was rather fond of dramatic entrances, especially if he got to shock some people.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Ichigo smirked as he heard gasps and exclamations of protest from within the Great Hall. It seemed that Quidditch seemed quite the popular sport, even in school.

Dumbledore continued, "This is due to an even that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Something pushed Ichigo aside from the doors from the Great Hall, and Ichigo looked around in annoyance at the person who had pushed him. He caught a glimpse of a wooden leg carved like a claw, a very scarred face, and a spinning blue eye before the figure entered the hall and slammed the door shut behind him. Ichigo took a mental note of the new character. Another variable he would have to account for in his planning.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody," said Dumbledore, far too cheerily in Ichigo's opinion. There was the sound of applause, but it seemed to be only one or two people clapping, one of which was Dumbledore, no doubt. Ichigo scowled. The man was far too optimistic for his tastes.

"As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year!"

Ichigo closed his eyes and tuned out the excited roaring of the student body. _'Geez,'_ he thought irritably. _'These British are so excitable, it's so annoying.'_ He continued to tune out much of Dumbledore's history lesson about the Tournament, as he already knew all of it.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us. Speaking of foreign guests…" Dumbledore said brightly, and Ichigo perked up. This was his big entrance.

"I am very pleased to announce that we have a very special guest who will be staying at Hogwarts this year with us!" Dumbledore announced with a twinkle in his eye. "As some of you may know, the magical society of Japan is one of the oldest and most developed magical societies in the world. Unfortunately, they have lingered in a state of extreme isolationism, cutting off all outsiders from their wizarding society, not sharing any of their magical findings and culture with the rest of the magical world. However, it appears that the magical government of Japan is finally beginning to end their policy of isolation. Therefore, this year, Hogwarts has the pleasure of hosting a special political envoy from the magical government of Japan. He will be staying and observing the classes as well as the Tournament, in order to see how our magical societies work, as well as provide extra security during the Tournament."

There were whispers of confusion at the last statement, and Dumbledore smiled merrily. "No doubt some of you are wondering why a Japanese envoy would provide security. Some of you may also be remembering the dementors from last year. Not to worry! Our guest is most definitely human and will not by trying to suck out your souls! No, I've been told that he has a most… special skillset. Now!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together, silencing the student body. "Allow me to introduce our special envoy from Japan, Mr. Ichigo Kurosaki!"

#

The massive doors to the Great Hall banged open once again and all heads turned to look at the figure who strode through them. That the man was tall and broadly built was evident to all despite the long black wool overcoat that concealed much of his body. The upper part of his face and head was concealed by a black top hat, and the coat flapped as he walked, revealing neatly pressed black slacks and shiny leather boots, his heels clicking against the stone floor. What really drew people's attention, however, was not the man's physical appearance or his clothing, but what he carried.

Diagonally across the man's back, over the overcoat, a long katana was sheathed in a black scabbard. The hilt was tightly bound in black leather, and the guard was also black. Underneath the leather binding, the wood of the hilt was highly-polished ebony, gleaming in the light of the candles that lit the Great Hall. Slung perpendicular to the long sword was a shorter one, about half its length, also completely black. As the long overcoat, which reached down past the man's knees, billowed, it revealed a leather belt and a pair of holsters which held objects that many were unfamiliar with. However, the students and teachers who were familiar with the non-magical world recognized them for what they were: a pair of shiny black handguns.

Shocked whispers broke out from those who recognized the weapons the man carried. A familiar blonde Slytherin's snide voice carried above the rest. "He's a _muggle! _What could a muggle possibly be doing at Hogwarts? Security? Hah!" There were murmurs of agreement from around the hall as the students voiced their own opinions.

Ichigo rolled his golden eyes beneath the shadow of his hat. Foolish wizards and their in-bred superiority complex. He ignored the whispers and blatant insult from the students and climbed the short flight of stairs to the teacher's table and dais. He took a deep breath. This was it. In a sweeping motion, he whipped the top hat off his head, revealing his tell-tale orange hair. Bowing deeply to the students, and then to the teachers, he addressed the crowd.

"Greetings, students and teachers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." His voice, although soft, carried through the hall with an air of one who was intimately used to giving commands. "As Headmaster Dumbledore said, my name is Ichigo Kurosaki, Captain of the Twelfth division of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Squads, Head of the Research and Development Institute of the Court of Pure Souls, minor lord of the Noble Kuchiki Clan, special envoy on the behalf of the magical government of wizarding Japan. You may address me as Mr. Kurosaki, Captain, or Captain Kurosaki. It is a pleasure to be here this evening."

The entire hall was silent as Ichigo finished his introduction. Seconds ticked by, and Ichigo waited expectantly for the reaction that was to come. He was not disappointed.

"He's the one from the World Cup!" Harry whispered excitedly to his friends. "There's no way I wouldn't recognize that hair, those clothes, and those eyes!" And indeed it was so. A collective shiver ran through the hall as the students saw the envoy's eyes. A bright golden, they seemed to glow eerily in the light of the candles.

Malfoy was the first to overcome the shock from seeing the envoy's eyes. Jumping to his feet, he shouted in anger, "My father will hear of this! A muggle as a magical envoy? Don't try to fool us with your load of drivel!"

No sooner had he finished speaking did he suddenly realize that the man was gone. "Believe me," whispered a raspy voice, and Malfoy whirled around only to come face-to-face with the glowing golden eyes of Ichigo Kurosaki. "I am no muggle. I am capable of much, much more than you believe, more than you wizards have even seen. We Japanese… we are not ones to be underestimated." In a silent flurry of black, he disappeared again, reappearing on the dais in the blink of an eye.

The hall was struck silent at Ichigo's blatant display of his abilities, and Dumbledore took the opportunity to clear his throat in amusement. "As you can see, those from the Japanese magical society have abilities and techniques that we have never seen before. This is a wonderful way for us to witness first-hand what they have to offer by joining the global magical society. Please, treat Captain Kurosaki during his stay. Now, off you trot! To bed!"

#

I tried to make Ichigo's introduction as badass as I could. Hopefully I lived up to your standards! As you can see, Ichigo has a fondness for wearing black! I wonder what suspicions this could arouse. Hehehe… I'm really enjoying writing this…

See you guys for the next chapter! Drop a review while you're at it, too!

~fokker333


	5. Chapter 5

Ichigo suppressed a manic grin as he watched the students file out of the Great Hall, still whispering excitedly. Now that he had revealed himself publicly, there would undoubtedly be reporters swarming to get an interview, and possibly some Ministry officials looking for him. He scoffed. As if they could do anything. He knew that the upper-class purebloods who had bribed their way out of imprisonment for their World Cup stunt were out for blood. But no matter how much influence they had with the Ministry, there was no way the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could do anything to him. He had diplomatic immunity granted by the Japanese government, and even if the British Ministry did try to arrest him, there was no way they would be able to keep him in custody. Ichigo doubted that they would actually try anything, not when a huge international event was about to happen. The British Ministry would not want in international scandal just before the Tri-wizard Tournament, after all.

He stood up from the teacher's table, where he had been offered an honorary position, and was about to leave the Great Hall for his room when he was stopped.

"Pardon me, Mr. Kurosaki," said the familiar voice of Albus Dumbledore. Ichigo turned and looked in Dumbledore's twinkling eyes coolly.

"Yes, Headmaster?" he asked politely. "Something I can do for you?"

"If you don't mind, we have a few questions for you, if you have the time to answer them," the old man said, gesturing to the teachers, who had come up behind the headmaster, curious looks on their faces.

"Certainly," said Ichigo, twirling his hat absently in his hand. "In exchange, I myself have a few questions for you."

"A trade then," smiled Dumbledore. "Excellent. For my first question…" He considered for a moment, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully. "Ah!" He looked at Ichigo expectantly. "Is that hair color natural? I don't believe I've ever seen such a vivid shade of orange before."

Ichigo choked slightly. He had expected a question that might cause him to reveal certain details about his mission that he was unwilling to share, not something as shallow as that. Recovering quickly, he composed himself. "It is, Headmaster," he responded, running a hand through his hair, still unruly and spiky after nearly half a century of captainship in the Gotei 13. "I believe that it's my turn to ask a question."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Ichigo wondered idly if it was possible for the old headmaster to go blind from too much twinkling. "It is indeed, Mr. Kurosaki. No doubt you have many questions for us, in order to become accustomed to the English wizarding world and its customs."

Ichigo nodded in agreement. "There are many things about your culture that I'm curious about, which I haven't read about already in our reports. For example, the, ah… ghosts here at Hogwarts." He looked at Dumbledore and the assembled teachers inquisitively, and some of them shivered a bit at his golden eyes, which were again glowing, this time with curiosity. "How are they able to stay manifested in this world for such a long time? From what I heard during dinnertime conversation, many of them are quite old."

"You do not have ghosts in Japan?" asked the old woman, McGonagall, looking at Ichigo with sharp eyes. Ichigo made a mental note of her. She would be difficult to keep secrets from, it seemed.

"They are not the same as the ones I have seen here," Ichigo replied. "You see, Japanese magical culture is very much based on spiritual powers and the like. The belief is that when a human dies, their soul leaves their body, which is left behind to decay. The soul then is connected to the living world by what we call the 'Chain of Fate.' The soul then lingers in the living world, bound by their regrets, until they are purified and sent to the afterlife by mythical beings we call 'shinigami,' which roughly translates to 'god of death.' However, I think a more apt translation in context would be 'soul reaper.'"

"These 'shinigami' then, they are the equivalent of the Grim Reaper then?" asked Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher.

Ichigo paused, pretending to think about the answer. In reality, he knew exactly how to respond already, but he didn't want to give these English wizards and witches the impression that he was very knowledgeable about the subject. After all, it was only human nature to have an overwhelming curiosity of the afterlife. "I wouldn't say that," he said slowly. "I have read about your 'Grim Reaper,' who seems to _bring _death. You see, according to Japanese mythology and folklore, shinigami are beings, spirits themselves, who do not bring death, but rather act like guides for the deceased's soul, leading them to the afterlife. I would compare them more to Charon of Greek mythology, the ferryman who carried souls over the River Styx to the Underworld."

"You seem very knowledgeable about Western cultures," said Dumbledore, looking at Ichigo curiously. "How is it that a Japanese wizard knows so much about our cultures and stories despite Japan being completely cut off from the rest of the wizarding world? On the other hand, I don't think any of us have heard of these 'shinigami' that you spoke of." The assembled British wizards and witches nodded in agreement.

Ichigo smiled slightly. It wasn't a malicious smile, no. Some who were present later would describe it as more mischievous than anything else. "Ah, you see, it is true that the magical culture of Japan has cut itself off from the outside world. However, the mundane world of Japan has very much immersed itself in western society."

"Mundane?" a short, plump woman, Professor Sprout, asked. "Do you mean muggle?"

Ichigo frowned. "I find that term for a non-magical human rather offensive, Professor," he said. "From what I have observed of you English wizards and witches, it appears to me that simply because you possess abilities that others don't, you think yourselves superior. Frankly, it is an idea that is appalling to us Japanese wizards. We ourselves, although we don't share our magical secrets with others, have very completely merged ourselves with mundane society. We of the magical society consider the mundanes to be our equals. The two societies have drawbacks and advantages, checks and balances, so to speak. To think that one is superior to the other is foolish."

"You mean you Japanese wizards actually _intermingle_ with muggles?" sneered a greasy man also dressed in black. Ichigo snorted. It seemed that these English wizards were so arrogant that they had completely cut themselves off from the mundane world.

"Certainly," Ichigo said with a smirk. "Japanese wizards live with, work with, and breathe the same air as the mundanes. What makes them any different from us? What makes _us_ any better than them? It is ideas like this, that wizards are better than mundanes, and to a deeper extend, that those wizards that are of pure blood are better than those who are not, that led to the rise of your dark lord, the so-called _Lord Voldemort_, fifteen years ago." He ignored the gasps of shock as he said the 'taboo' name casually.

Dumbledore smiled as he listened to Ichigo's rant. "That is a very interesting point you bring up, Mr. Kurosaki. I am rather impressed at your insights in these matters."

Ichigo bowed slightly. "Thank you, Headmaster. I'm flattered. However, I am still curious about these ghosts of yours. How did they come into existence?"

"According to the ghosts themselves," Dumbledore said, "When they died, they were offered a choice: to pass on, or to remain in this world as they are now: an imprint of their old selves when they were alive. It seems to me that those who chose to stay are those who had some sort of regret, similar to what you called the 'Chain of Fate', was it? that binds them to the world."

Ichigo nodded, thinking. He had never seen something like this before. It was unheard of in Soul Society for a soul to stay in the world of the living without hollowfying. As captain of the Twelfth division, and the one in charge of all technical matters, Ichigo was obligated to investigate. Although even if it weren't, he would have done so anyways. The scientist in him was simply itching to begin running experiments on these ghosts. He wondered if they were visible to regular mortals as well, or just to wizards. Probably just to wizards and other humans with higher-than-normal reiatsu, though, since they didn't seem to leave the castle. "Headmaster, may I request something?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Of course, my boy. What is it?"

Ichigo refrained from rolling his eyes at the way the old headmaster addressed him. Ichigo had been a captain of the Gotei 13 for nearly half a century now, he was older than most of the teachers at Hogwarts, for kami's sake! "With your permission, may I run some experiments on the ghosts here at the school? You see, as captain of the Twelfth division of the Imperial Court Guard Squads, one of my duties is also the investigation of any technical affairs. I am the president of the Research and Development Institute, and I myself have pioneered much of the technology that the Court Guard Squads use."

"Oh?" said Snape, the greasy teacher, seeming somewhat interested. "Do elaborate, won't you?" he said with a slight sneer on his face. Clearly he doubted Ichigo's claims.

Ichigo sighed. "Very well. But in order for you to appreciate some of what I created, I suppose I should give you all a lesson on Japanese magic. From what I've seen, the normal magical population in Japan has spells very similar to those that you teach your students here at Hogwarts. However, we in the Gotei 13, that is, the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Squads, have a very special type of magic, which we call _kidou_. Kidou, which translates roughly 'the Demon Arts', is magic specialized towards combat. Kidou is divided into two main branches. _Hadou, _or 'Way of Destruction,' consist of offensive spells, numbering from one to ninety-nine, in order of increasing of power. _Bakudou_, or 'Way of Binding,' focus on either defensive spells or spells intended to immobilize or incapacitate your opponent. Similarly to hadou, bakudou spells also range from one to ninety-nine."

"Interesting," remarked Dumbledore. "And the inventions?"

Ichigo reached a hand under his overcoat, pulling the custom black handgun from the right holster at his waist. "This," he said, handing the gun expertly, "is a customized Colt Model 1911. The mundane firearm fires .45 caliber bullets. However, this particular model has been modified to fire these." From an inside pocket, he produced a shiny silver cartridge with a Japanese symbol etched on the side. "This is a specialized container designed to contain a kidou spell that has been placed into minor temporal stasis. It is loaded into the gun, and when I pull the trigger, the temporal stasis is released, allowing the spell to be fired from the barrel of the gun. Allow me to demonstrate."

From another inside pocket, Ichigo produced a rubber disk about the size of a small plate. Holstering the gun again, he instead pulled out his wand. "The first, and least lethal of the kidou spells, is effectively an invisible force that pushes back the target. Roughly translated, the spell's name is 'repel', or 'thrust,'" Flipping the rubber disk into the air, Ichigo aimed with his wand. "Hadou no. 1, _shou!_"

The disk, which had been flipping end over end straight up, was immediately pushed halfway across the hall, landing with a soft thump on the floor.

"In order for me to cast multiple spells, I would have to recast the spell over and over again. Saying the incantation makes the spell stronger, but means that I can cast fewer spells in a set amount of time. Casting without the incantation allows me to fire many spells, but at a greatly reduced power. The gun allows me to avoid the incantation while casting the spells at full strength." Ichigo pulled out another disk, flipping it end over end once again.

Dumbledore and the assembled teachers watched as Ichigo's stance completely changed, becoming somehow more… predatory. His eyes began to glow again, and a slightly maniacal grin appeared on his face.

His right hand plunged beneath his overcoat, his long fingers wrapping around the black matte grip of the holstered gun. The disk was reaching the apex of its flight the gun came clear of the leather holster. With only an instant to aim, Ichigo pulled the trigger. The spell, invisible to the wizards' untrained eyes, struck the flat side of the disk as it was exactly 45 degrees to the horizontal, sending it flying away from where he stood. Ichigo fired again and again, the shots impacting within half a second of each other, sending the disk hurtling across the hall. The last shot impacted the disk exactly 4.64 seconds after it was tossed into the air, sending it slamming into the door with a hollow _THUD_, having traveled the entire length of the Great Hall.

Snape's eyes widened as he witnessed the incredible feat of speed and reflexes. Before the disk had hit the ground, Ichigo had already ejected the empty magazine and had a fresh one loaded and a new round chambered. The greasy-haired Potions master bent to the floor, picking up one of the cartridges and palmed it discreetly. This was something he had to study. Unfortunately, Ichigo's trained eyesight caught the slight movement, and he shook his head.

"Sorry, Professor, but I'm afraid these cartridges are classified as confidential contraband by the captain-commander of the Gotei 13. You can't have that," Ichigo said, smirking unperceptively. He knew how much the potions master longed to examine that. Unfortunately, without the proper tools and equipment, which Ichigo doubted the wizards had, since they had all been invented by Ichigo himself or Urahara Kisuke, even if Snape had access to the cartridge to examine, he wouldn't get much out of it.

Scowling, the teacher handed back the cartridge, which Ichigo pocketed along with the other now-empty ones he had just fired. "I assume that is a sufficient demonstration?" he asked, using his customized, completely silent movement technique, a combination of the shinigami flash-step and sonido, to retrieve the two black disks. Reappearing in a billow of his overcoat on the dais in front of the teachers, he slipped them back into an inside pocket in the coat.

"What was that just now?" asked McGonagall, her eyes wide. "That wasn't apparition. Besides, you can't apparate in Hogwarts, the wards block that. How did you move like that?"

Ichigo chuckled. "Sorry, Professor," he said, not at all apologetically. "That's also classified information. I can tell you what it's called though. I call it _seishuku ashi_. Roughly translated, it means 'quiet foot'. Another of my… _inventions_, if you will." Turning, he walked out of the Great Hall. "Well, Professors, I must admit that I still have a great many questions to ask, but it is getting rather late, and I like to get an early start of the day. Good night to you all."

The doors of the Great Hall slammed shut behind Ichigo's retreating back, leaving the professors of Hogwarts also with a great many questions unanswered.

#

Another daily update for you all! I'm absolutely stunned by how many reviews I have. 64 reviews for a mere four chapters? Dang.

Also, I have a message, or rather some advice, for the anonymous reviewer that identifies him/herself as only 'd', whose flames I have deleted. If you really want to piss someone off, I suggest you try as much as possible to use proper grammar and spelling. Sadly, when one spells 'eat' as etae, it tends to make people take you much less seriously. I do feel sad that I had to delete your two previous reviews though, since if I had kept them the review count for my story would be two higher than it is now. So, please don't waste any effort leaving a flame review, since I really don't care, since my story is clearly well-liked by my readers, and it's just going to be a waste of time since I'm just going to delete it anyway. Good day.

~fokker333


	6. Chapter 6

"What do you think of Mr. Kurosaki?" Harry asked his friends as they walked through the corridors toward the Gryffindor common room. Despite the excitement over the Tri-wizard Tournament which would be beginning in a mere few weeks, his mind still lingered on the reappearance of the Japanese wizard.

"I'm really curious about magic in Japan," Hermione said excitedly, and beside her Ron snorted in exasperation. Harry only smiled. Typical Hermione.

"Is that all you can think of?" Ron asked incredulously. "He's like a bloody dark wizard, Hermione. He dresses exactly like Snape, too! His eyes, his laugh, everything about him screams 'Death Eater'!"

Hermione smacked Ron. "I think you're jumping to conclusions again. You can't classify someone just because of what they wear. I admit that his eye color is a bit strange, as is the magic that he's performed, but that isn't grounds for accusing him of being a Death Eater. Besides, you're forgetting about the fact that he _attacked_ the Death Eaters at the World Cup."

"…Oh," said Ron. "I forgot."

Hermione huffed. "Of course you did," she said, and Harry smiled at his friends' bickering.

"Alright, guys," he said, placing himself between the two placatingly. "I have my own suspicions myself about this guy, this 'Captain Kurosaki,' but I don't think at this point we have enough evidence."

Hermione beamed, while Ron looked offended, and mildly disappointed, that Harry had sided with Hermione and not him. Harry exhaled. "Sorry, Ron, but that's what I feel. Honestly, the fact that he fought off those Death Eaters is enough to make me hesitate."

Ron only rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm tired, I think I'll turn in now." He turned and entered the Gryffindor common room. Not lingering by the fire as the trio usually did, he instead directly climbed the stairs and went up to the dorm.

Harry frowned at the retreating figure of his best friend, and Hermione sighed. "Don't worry about him, Harry," she reassured him. "He's a bit hard-headed sometimes."

"Don't I know it," he said, smiling and shaking his head ruefully. "I think I'll turn in, too. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry," she said. "I think that in my free time I'm going to go to the library to do some research. I'm curious to find out what sorts of magic the Japanese use."

"Dumbledore said that Japan's been closed off from the rest of the world, though, right?" Harry said. "Doesn't that mean that there won't be any books about their culture?"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, Harry," she mused. "I think it's still worth a try checking in the library, though. You never really know what you might find in there. But even if we can't find anything, we could just ask Captain Kurosaki, right?"

Something didn't feel right in Harry to ask someone like Captain Kurosaki about something like that, but he was curious about what the dark man with the golden eyes had used at the World Cup, as well as how he had just disappeared and reappeared behind Malfoy completely silently. It couldn't be apparition, since it was impossible to apparate completely silently. Besides, hadn't Hermione said something about not being able to apparate within the boundaries of Hogwarts? Something about wards…

"Alright," he said. "If you can't find anything, we'll just ask Captain Kurosaki."

Hermione nodded, a glint in her eye, a glint that Harry had learned meant not to get in her way if she was looking for something. "Good night, Harry," she said, turning and climbing the stairs.

Harry quickly changed into his pajamas and climbed into his four-poster bed, drawing the curtains shut. That night, he fell asleep to dreams of billowing black robes and a pair of sinisterly glowing golden eyes, staring at him from the shadows.

#

Ichigo tossed and stirred in his bed in a private room in his sleep as his mind dredged up long-ago memories.

The sun shined cheerily overhead, but on the ground dust was blown into clouds as sparks flew. The sounds of clashing steel echoed across the dunes. A dark figure hurtled out of the cloud of sand, smashing into a dune and tumbled head over heels until it smashed into a broken pillar. The hulking figure of the Tenth Espada, who surprisingly enough had turned out to be the Cero Espada, loomed from the cloud of dust, laughing at the pair of vice-captains before him. They stared in horror at the figure that had just been smashed into a pillar, and was now on the ground, coughing up blood.

"Kira!" Hisagi Shuuhei and Hinamori Momo yelled in concern and horror at their companion.

"HA!" Yammy Rialgo shouted, laughing in derision at the weary fighters before him. "You are mere insects to me! It was foolish of your commander to send only three vice-captains to fight me!"

Ichigo appeared silently, the black overcoat of his bankai outfit, now torn to shreds after his fight against the Sexta Espada, Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, and the Cuatra Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer. Blood dripped into his vision from a cut on his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand before it crystallized. Shaking his head to clear his vision, he stared at the scene before him.

The broken body of Izuru Kira lay amid a cluster of shattered rocks, the remains of pillars scattered around him. Ichigo wasn't completely sure, but he thought he felt a flicker of reiatsu emanating from the blond vice-captain's body. It would have to be enough for now. He turned his attention to Hisagi and Momo, who were clutched in the massive hand of the Cero Espada.

"What's this?" the massive Espada grinned, turning to look at Ichigo, who released a massive burst of reiatsu in anger at the sight of his subordinates, the ones whose well-beings were his responsibility, unconscious and injured. "Another insect? Come on, then. Let's see what you've got. Maybe you'll actually injure me, unlike these useless things here." He squeezed, and Ichigo heard bones crack and a small moan of pain escape from Momo, who was now barely conscious.

Yammy flung his hand outward, releasing the two vice-captains, sending them hurtling through the air. "No!" Ichigo was unable to keep the panic from his voice as he watched in horror. Lunging forward, muscles screaming, he vanished in his shadow-step technique, desperately trying to catch up to the two vice-captains.

He pushed himself harder as he watched the bodies of his officers plummet. _Shit. Shit. SHIT! _With one final massive burst of power that crushed the ground beneath him into dust, he barely managed to wrap a finger around the hem of Momo's shihakusho. Enveloping the two vice-captains with his arms, he landed on the ground, skidding on the dust. Quickly, holding a hand over both their chests, he poured as much reiatsu as he could into their bodies, the green glow of healing kidou engulfing their injuries.

Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief as he felt Rukia's reiatsu approaching, having apparently beating her own opponent. "Rukia!" he shouted, not taking his eyes off the two injured vice-captains. "Go heal Kira!"

There was only silence, and Ichigo wondered why Rukia wasn't following his orders. "Oi, Rukia, that's an order!" he shouted as he felt Toushiro's reiatsu appear, engaging the massive Espada in an attempt to give Ichigo time to heal the vice-captains.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Rukia, with a tear slowly rolling down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Ichigo," she said, shaking her head slowly. "I'm so, so sorry."

Ichigo felt a cold chill run down his spine. "What's wrong?" he said, although he had an inkling of an idea of what had caused Rukia to act this way.

"Kira… he's gone, Ichigo," Rukia murmured.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, something happened. Red began seeping into Ichigo's vision, and Rukia gasped as white began seeping into his hair. His golden eyes began to glow with bloodlust, and a feral growl escaped from his throat. Pain shot through his head, and Ichigo hunched over, clutching his forehead, leaving Rukia to heal the two vice-captains.

"You bastard!" he roared at the giant Espada, who had just swatted aside Toushiro in his bankai like he was nothing but a bug. "I… I'm going to KILL you!"

Black reiatsu exploded off him, flattening his companions, including the injured ones. Rukia gasped, "Ichigo… stop it…" as Hisagi and Momo began to cough blood violently.

With a roar, Ichigo leapt toward the Cero Espada, sword raised, black reiatsu swirling around the blade, preparing for a massive Getsuga Tenshou, while Rukia, Toushiro, Momo, and Hisagi groaned behind him under the weight of his reiatsu.

Ichigo woke with a gasp, beads of sweat running down his face. He cursed inwardly. He hadn't had those nightmares for years, so why were the popping up again now?

#

A bit of a shorter chapter this time, but it's pretty loaded I think. Gives you some of Ichigo's background. For those of you who read _When Genius Meets Death_, the events in the nightmare are coming very soon.

Sorry for the shorter chapter, but I didn't have much time to write today, so…

A few shoutouts: thanks to **Maverick14th **for your awesome reviews. I love your support.

Thanks to my sister, **Say-theLastWord**, for reading and reviewing. I love you too!

Everyone go to deviantArt and check out **theanimeaxis** and his drawing **Monocle Ichigo**, it's awesome!

Finally, thanks to **Eradona **for writing her own incredible story and to a certain extent inspiring me to write this one.

See you tomorrow for the next daily update!

~fokker333


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning at breakfast, hundreds of owls swooped into the Great Hall bearing mail. Harry searched the mass of brown, grey, and black for Hedwig, but the telltale white plumage of his beautiful snowy owl was nowhere to be seen. His stomach sank, and he had a sudden flash of fear that somehow something had happened to Sirius, who was in hiding. Earlier in the summer he had sent his godfather a letter about his scar hurting, and he had been hoping for some advice. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do but hope that Sirius was still safe.

A flash of black and purple among the flock of owls caught his eye, and he looked curious at the object that had appeared in his peripheral vision. Strangely enough, it was a large black butterfly with purple lower wings, about the size of his palm, fluttering its way towards the teacher's table. Curious, he nudged Hermione and Ron and pointed towards the butterfly. "Hey," he said, directing their attention towards it. "What do you suppose that is?" he asked.

Both Ron and Hermione shrugged, Ron not really paying attention, but Hermione watched the butterfly closely, observing what it did next. To their surprise, the butterfly made its way to the object of the trio's interests and suspicions, Captain Kurosaki.

"Hey," Harry whispered to Hermione, "Do you think that butterfly is the Japanese equivalent of our owls?" They watched as the butterfly landed on the Japanese wizard's fingertip, which he had extended to allow for it to land on. Captain Kurosaki adopted an expression of concentration as he apparently listened to something nobody else could hear. Abruptly, a fierce scowl appeared on his face, causing Harry to shudder. With the glowing golden eyes, Kurosaki looked positively bloodthirsty.

Ichigo cursed under his breath as he listened to the message the Hell Butterfly had just delivered, causing some of the teachers to look at him curiously. "Something wrong, my boy?" the old Headmaster asked, slight concern in his voice. Ichigo wanted to strangle the old man, but resisted the urge. Although he was already sixty-seven years old, his physical appearance still resembled that of a young man in his prime.

"Nothing for you to concern yourself over, Headmaster," he said. Reaching with his free hand, he tapped the Hell Butterfly, causing it to morph into a large stack of papers, which dropped onto the table with a heavy _thud_. "It appears that my subordinates have neglected to finish the paperwork for certain… matters, and they have left it to me to complete it."

McGonagall stared at the stack of papers, which was taller than it was wide, in amazement. "Paperwork?" she said, aghast. "You call _that_ paperwork?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "When our department finishes a new invention, there's always a ton of paperwork and political crap we have to get through. What you see here," he said, gesturing to the stack of paper, each sheet awaiting his signature and various other information, "is just the tip of the iceberg. Once I finish this, I'll send this back to the department, and then there's a few months of negotiating before the new invention can be put into circulation throughout the squads."

A spark of amusement appeared in Dumbledore's eyes. "So did your kidou gun invention go through this same process?" he asked curiously, eyeing the shiny black gun that was visible in its holster.

Ichigo fingered the gun with one hand while eating with the other, after turning the stack of papers back into a butterfly and sending it off to his room. "Just the paperwork part," he said after swallowing a mouthful of scrambled egg. Taking a sip of the tea, he grimaced at the taste. "Kidou guns are rather difficult and expensive to make, so they aren't standard equipment for the Gotei 13. Rather, only I and some other high-ranking members of the squads have them. Do you guys have any green tea?" he said, looking at his teacup filled with some sort of milky brown fluid, heavily sugared, with veiled disgust.

The teachers smirked in amusement, some laughing. Dumbledore chuckled merrily. "English tea not to your tastes, Captain?" he said, as a delicate china pot appeared on the table, a Japanese-style teacup appearing next to it.

Ichigo nodded as he poured the steaming liquid into the cup. Taking a sip of the hot tea, he sighed in contentment. "That's right. This is the good stuff right here," he said, gesturing to the cup. "Your English tea is so… well, I don't know how to describe it. You add so much stuff to it. Milk, sugar, and what have you. It's a bit disconcerting, to say the least."

"Tea," snorted the scarred Alastor Moody. "I'll stick to this good stuff right here," he said, holding up his ornately carved hip flask, taking a swig.

Ichigo frowned at the teacher. "Is that legal?" he asked, eyeing the flask with concern and a bit of suspicion. "I wasn't aware that you English allowed teachers to drink at a school." Mentally he filed away the fact that Moody only drank from the hip flask. It might be handy sometime. Besides, something about this new teacher didn't sit right with the captain. His reiatsu seemed rather dark, much of it coming from his right arm. Come to think of it, he got the same feeling from Snape, the potions master, although it was much more suppressed.

"We have no laws against it," sniffed McGonagall, who clearly didn't approve of Moody's drinking either. "So it is not prohibited."

Ichigo shook his head. These English wizards were more lax in their security and laws than Kyoraku Shunsui and Coyote Starrk, the former Primera Espada, were lazy. It was a good thing he was here for security. In his experience, not even a school was safe. If the enemy wanted something, they would go to unthinkable lengths to attain it, including targeting children.

"What was that butterfly?" Snape asked curiously, and Ichigo smirked slightly. Trust this man never to dillydally. He always cut right to what he wanted to know.

"We call them _Jigokuchou_, 'Hell Butterfly.'" He looked at the expressions on the wizards' faces in amusement. "Don't ask me why they're called that, we had them before I became a Captain," he said.

The teachers lost interest then, and went back to chatting amongst themselves. To occupy himself, Ichigo scanned the tables, making note of a few students with fairly high reiatsu. He still had to test whether these wizards could see him in soul form. His eyes swept over a trio of Gryffindor students that looked familiar, and he concentrated on them for a moment before remembering. They were the ones in the Leaky Cauldron, who had seen him at the World Cup. No doubt they had questions for them now that he had revealed himself at Hogwarts. He turned to the Headmaster with a questioning look.

"Headmaster, who are those three at the Gryffindor table?" he asked. '

Dumbledore glanced at the aforementioned students and smiled. "Those would be Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger," he said.

Ichigo noticed out of the corner of his eye the thinly veiled look of disgust on Snape's face. Apparently he and Potter had some sort of bad blood between them. Interesting. He nodded. "Ah, thank you," he said.

"Do they interest you?" Dumbledore asked with a knowing glint in his eye.

"They were staring at me," Ichigo replied smoothly, causing Dumbledore to chuckle mildly.

"Yes, you'll have to excuse them for that; I'm afraid young Mr. Potter and his companions have a penchant for curiosity," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

Ichigo nodded absently as he continued to sweep the room. A spark of reiatsu made him freeze suddenly. _Impossible_! Slowly, he turned to look at the source of the familiar reiatsu, albeit one that he hadn't felt for decades. His eyes caught on a young blonde girl sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table, and he stiffened as he felt her reiatsu brush against his senses again. The girl turned her head, and their eyes met, her blue-grey orbs not flinching beneath his piercing golden gaze. After a moment, she gave him a small smile and returned her attention to her food.

Ichigo sank back into his chair, feeling slightly faint. The shock he had from feeling that reiatsu again after so long brought back the memory of the nightmare from last night. "Kira…" he murmured quietly, so quietly that nobody heard him. "I'm sorry…"

#

Ichigo walked through the hallways, looking in mild interest at the old suits of armor that lined the walls, when his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of whispers. He smirked. _And so the stalking begins…_

"Something I can help you with, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, seemingly to thin air. He raised an eyebrow as the air in front of him shimmered and the three students appeared.

Potter tucked something quickly under his robes, and Ichigo made a mental note to find out what it was that had hidden them so well from view. Unfortunately for them, although he couldn't see them, he could still hear them and sense their reiatsu very clearly. He smirked at the guilty looks on the students' faces.

"You're the one we saw at the Leaky Cauldron," Granger said, cutting straight to the chase. "You came to our table to ask questions."

Ichigo nodded the affirmative. "That's right," he said. "Sorry to keep it a secret from you guys, but I didn't want my cover blown until I got here to Hogwarts." He saw Weasley's face twist into a scowl. The kid was just like Abarai when they had first met, headstrong and brash.

"Who are you?" Ichigo only smirked. Yup, just like Abarai.

"Who am I? That's a funny question to ask. I believe I introduced myself only yesterday," Ichigo said, raising an eyebrow. "But apparently you've forgotten already." His smirk widened as Weasley's face turned redder than Abarai's hair. This was fun. He was so easy to get worked up. "I guess I'll just have to refresh your apparently-terrible memory then. My name is Ichigo Kurosaki. I'm a special envoy from the magical government of Japan, Captain of the Twelfth division of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Squads, president of the Research and Development Institute, and minor lord of the Noble Kuchiki Family." His smirk turned into a grin which caused the three students to shudder visibly. "I don't think you've introduced yourselves yet. That's bad manners, you know," he said.

Ron's complexion had turned from red to pale and he was unable to say anything but stutter as Ichigo watched amusedly. Granger screwed up the courage and said, "I'm Hermione Granger, and these two are Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, sir."

Ichigo nodded, adopting a bored look. "Yes, yes. I know already," he said.

Potter flushed. "If you knew who we were already, why did you ask us?" he asked, also getting worked up.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I didn't _ask_ you to introduce yourselves," he drawled. "I merely pointed out that it was bad manners to not introduce yourselves. I never specifically asked for your names, you simply assumed based off my statement that I didn't know who you were."

"How did you know who we were then?" asked Granger.

Weasley cut her off quickly. "Obviously he's after Harry! Any Death Eater would know who _he _is!"

Ichigo mentally facepalmed at the stupidity of the boy, while Granger smacked him upside the head. "You idiot!" she hissed, shooting Ichigo an apologetic look.

Ichigo smirked again, looking at Granger. "You're from a mundane family." He said. It was a statement, not a question, and she blushed slightly.

"That's right," she affirmed. "How did you know that, though?" she asked, curiosity etched on her face.

Ichigo smiled secretively. "I have my sources. Sources that I would rather remain unknown," he said, enjoying the looks of annoyance on the three students' faces. "Now, I am perfectly willing to answer any and all questions you have for me, except the ones that I deem compromising to answer. We Japanese have plenty of secrets to keep, after all."

"What was that shield you performed at the World Cup?" asked Potter quickly, his eyes narrowed.

Ichigo shrugged. "Oh, that?" he asked casually. "That was nothing. Just a simple spell that we use in the Imperial Court Guards."

"Simple?" repeated Granger, sounding aghast. "That shield was stronger than anything I've ever read about! It's impossible to have a shield strong enough to block a dozen powerful spells at once!"

"Impossible?" Ichigo said, raising an eyebrow. "Not at all." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "In fact, in my experience, I've learned that there is no such thing as the word 'impossible'. Such things are merely very, very improbable."

"Show us, then," said Weasley abruptly. "Prove it to us that this shield is actually what you say it is, and that show back at the World Cup wasn't something set up to get you into Hogwarts."

"You think I'm a Death Eater, and that that whole business at the World Cup was just a front, an excuse to get me into Hogwarts?" Ichigo asked, amused. "Well, what if it was? Here I am. What next? I suppose I'm going to go on a killing rampage now, firing spells left and right randomly?" His eyes narrowed, and he let his voice distort slightly. "Please. You must be more stupid than you look. If I wanted you dead, you already would be, and there would be nothing your Ministry could do to stop me."

Weasley shouted triumphantly, "I knew it! He _is _a Death Eater, 'Mione! We should go report this right away!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Foolish child," he said, letting his voice fully distort, his golden eyes glowing. White began seeping into his bright orange hair, causing the students to recoil in horror. "Are you deaf? Did you not hear _anything_ I just said?" He looked down at the trio, who were now sweating and shivering beneath his cold glare.

With a swish of his coat, he turned on one leather-clad heel and walked down the hallway. "You're questions are not worthy of my answers," he said coldly, his voice and hair returning to normal as he walked. "I am an important government official and a noble. As mere _children_, you are beneath me. I shall not waste any more time on you."

#

Next chapter is here, as usual! Thanks to **Maverick14th **for the idea of Kira's reincarnation. I really liked the concept, so I hope you don't mind that I actually use it! Also, thanks to anonymous reviewer **qwerty** for the 100th review! Woo, the reception I've gotten for this story is amazing! Thanks for all the support, guys!

Next chapter, Ichigo sits in on Defense Against the Dark Arts! Stay tuned!

~fokker333


	8. Chapter 8

Ichigo entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom twenty minutes before the class started. He looked around, observing the room interestedly. This was the classroom of Alastor Moody, the man who had given off that dark reiatsu. Since Ichigo had an excuse as special envoy to observe the classes, he would take this opportunity to keep an eye on this suspicious character. Although Dumbledore had assured him that Moody was on their side, Ichigo had learned after decades of fighting to always trust his instincts.

His thoughts were interrupted when he sensed a faint reiatsu enter the room. He turned to face the source and was slightly surprised to see the figure of a ghost, one of the many he had seen in the Great Hall at the feast. "Hello, sir," he said politely, standing and bowing to the ghost, who looked startled at being addressed thus.

"Good morning, Captain Kurosaki," the ghost said, nodding.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Ichigo said curiously.

"In a way," the ghost said. "My name is James Barclay. I've been a ghost for a hundred and thirty-seven years. I made the decision to stay here in this world because I wanted to see my dear wife. But now, she's passed on too. I've overstayed my welcome in this world, and I wish to pass on."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked, crossing his legs in his chair, adopting a nonchalant pose, although he inwardly was tensing up. Was it possible that ghosts knew his true identity?

"I'm telling you, Captain Kurosaki, because I _know_. All of us ghosts know your true identity, Reaper." Seeing Ichigo visibly tense and reach his hand discreetly inside his coat, no doubt for a weapon, he quickly reassured him. "Not to worry, not to worry. Your secret is safe with us. All I want is to pass on. You can at least grant me that desire, right?"

Ichigo considered the offer. "Actually, I've wanted to try something like that ever since I saw you ghosts at the feast the other day. You English ghosts are fundamentally different from normal ghosts, in that you stay manifested in this world due to magic. I don't know if a normal konso, a soul burial, will even work on you. But if it is your wish, I shall do my best to grant it."

A look of gratitude and immense relief crossed Barclay's face. "Thank you so much, Captain! I can't thank you enough!"

A soft look of compassion appeared on Ichigo's normally hard face. "You can thank me by passing on and having a good life in the Rukongai. Try not to get into trouble, alright?"

Barclay nodded earnestly. "I will!" he said, nodding.

Ichigo reached a hand behind his back, wrapping his fingers around the black leather-bound hilt of the blade sheathed across his back. Standing straight, he drew it with a harsh rasp of steel against the scabbard. Seeing the ghost flinch slightly, as they always did, Ichigo reassured him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to attack you." He showed Barclay the bronze cap at the end of the hilt, on which a Japanese character was etched. "I'm just going to plant this seal on your forehead. If all goes well, you will be sent to the afterlife, which we call the Soul Society."

Feeling slightly more confident, the ghost stood proudly. "Please, Reaper. Do it."

Ichigo smiled softly. Even after all these years, performing konso and sending souls to Soul Society still gave him a sense of peace. Of course, until a few years after Aizen's death, the Rukongai where the normal souls were sent had been unorganized and in turmoil. But Ichigo had, long ago, made a promise that he would make the Rukongai a better place, and he had followed up on that promise. Now the Rukongai was a much better place.

Holding the sword so that the blade was in the air, with the hilt facing the ghost, Ichigo planted the seal firmly on Barclay's forehead. The glowing seal appeared on the ghost's forehead as Ichigo pulled the hilt away, and the ghost sighed with relief. "Thank you, Captain Kurosaki. Now I can see my wife again. Thank you."

In a flash of bright light, Barclay's body dissolved, leaving a sense of peace in the classroom. Ichigo breathed in contentedly, leaning the still-drawn sword against his shoulder. He just sat for a moment, taking in the atmosphere, before it was broken abruptly by the door slamming open and smashing against the wall.

A sporadic clumping sound jolted Ichigo out of his daze, and his eyes narrowed at the new figure that had just entered the room. "Good morning, Professor Moody," he said, not bothering to sheath his blade.

"So you're sitting in on the class today, Mr. Kurosaki?" Moody grunted as he stumped to the front of the room.

"That's right," Ichigo said smoothly. "I promise I won't disturb the lesson if I can help it. However, I suppose I must warn you. In my homeland, the method of teaching is sometimes… harsh. Please don't take it personally if I react in, er, _unusual_ ways, please don't mind me."

Moody laughed harshly. "Sure, Mr. Kurosaki. Although I've seen some pretty unusual teachings in my days as well…"

Ichigo smirked inwardly. As if a mere mortal could have seen or experienced anything like what he had in his time.

#

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures – you've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

Ichigo listened with interest at the list of Dark creatures Moody listed of. According to what he had read about English magical creatures, Boggarts took the form of one's worst fear. Ichigo chuckled darkly to himself as he considered the thought. _I wonder what a Boggart would manifest itself as if it saw me?_ he wondered. _My worst fear…_ He sighed and leaned back in his chair. _Of course. It would just end up appearing as the dead bodies of everyone that I cared about. All my friends and loved ones… Byakuya… Toushiro… Ishida… Chad… Momo… Rukia… The people under my command, whose safety I was responsible… Kira…_ Ichigo jerked himself out of his stupor with a start. _Dammit! Stop thinking that, stop thinking that. If you get all angsty over that again, you're just going to shut down! _

"Che," Ichigo muttered under his breath, quietly enough so that nobody could hear him. That is, nobody but a certain scarred teen and a certain teacher with a magical eye.

Harry gave a slight start as he noticed the Japanese envoy sitting in the corner of the room. _Since when did he get there?_ he wondered, slightly bewildered. That bewilderment was augmented by the sight of a katana, completely black, even the metal of the blade, resting against the Japanese man's shoulder. _That can't be safe,_ he thought to himself. Remembering Dumbledore saying at the feast that Captain Kurosaki would be observing some of the classes, he decided to put the man's presence to the back of his mind and instead concentrate on the lesson.

"So – straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter-curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it 'til then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful."

Ichigo found himself nodding unconsciously to what Moody was saying. It was true. During the war against Aizen and his Espada, intel was of uttermost importance. If they didn't know the full extent of the enemy's abilities, how would they be able to fight? Ichigo would never have been able to defeat Aizen if he didn't know about Aizen's zanpakutou abilities.

"So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Ichigo's head lifted and he stared at Moody intensely. This could be interesting.

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Weasley's and Granger's. Moody pointed at Weasley, and the red-headed boy responded tentatively

"Er, my dad told me about one… is it called the Imperius curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father _would_ know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius curse."

Ichigo noted the fact that Mr. Weasley, the older man he had met at the Leaky Cauldron, was a Ministry employee. He might come in handy later as an information source.

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large, black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Ichigo grimaced slightly. Those legs… they always reminded him of Yammy's resurrecion form. Ever since that battle, Ichigo had despised the sight of anything with large amounts of legs, and spiders were not excluded.

"Imperio!" The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk, and began to swing backwards and forwards as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a backflip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wan, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing. Everyone except Moody and Ichigo, who was frowning intensely, his golden eyes glowing sinisterly from the dark corner he was sitting in.

"Think it's funny do you?" Moody growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The room instantly became silent.

"Total control," said Moody quietly. "I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

As he spoke, the spider leapt and perched sideways on the window, then at the edge of a cup of water on Moody's desk, and then onto one of the students' desks, causing the desk's occupant to back away frantically. Then, as it leapt once more into the air, high into the air, higher than it had jumped before, something happened.

The air thickened and time seemed to slow. There was a hissing of air as something dark and glinting flashed in front of Harry's face, and he stared wide-eyed as the spider was neatly bisected, the two halves falling onto his desk. He whipped around and stared at Captain Kurosaki, who was calmly sliding his black katana back into its sheath on its back.

"Sorry, I don't like spiders," he said calmly, although his strange golden eyes glinted in the dim light. "And that one was getting a little too close for comfort. Anyways, you're done with that demonstration, aren't you, Professor?" he said.

Moody seemed a little startled by the sudden death of his teaching material, but recovered quickly. "Years back," he said gruffly, "there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius curse. Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. _Constant vigilance_!" he barked and all the students jumped.

Moody stumped over to Potter's desk and swept the remains of what used to be a spider into his hand, depositing it into the wastebasket by his desk. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to Harry's surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology, which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" Moody said, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on the timid boy.

"There's one – the Cruciatus curse," said Neville, in a small but distinct voice.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at this one. He had read reports of it being used by the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort and his followers fifteen years ago during the first incident that had caused the Gotei 13 so much trouble.

"The Cruciatus curse," said Moody, reaching into the jar and trapping another spider, blatantly ignoring the nervous look on Neville's face. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled, and Ichigo was immediately reminded of how the Cero Espada grew in size as his anger increased. He smirked as Weasley abandoned all pretense and shoved his chair backwards, as far away from Moody's desk as possible. It seemed that the English version of the Pineapple had acute arachnophobia.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed at the spider, and growled, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Ichigo could tell that it was in intense pain; if it had a voice, it surely would be screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently-

"Stop it!" Granger cried out, and Ichigo noticed that the Longbottom boy was pale and trembling, his hands clenched. His eyes had the look of a traumatized person, a look that he had seen on so many shinigami during the war.

Moody took the spell of the spider, and its legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch. "Reducio," Moody muttered, and it shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar. "Pain," he said softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus curse… that one was very popular once, too. Right… anyone know any others?"

Ichigo's gaze swept the room and noticed that everyone's facial expressions were tense, wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Granger's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her."

"_Avada Kedavra_," she whispered, looking slightly pale.

Nervous whispers broke out, and many people looked around uneasily.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. Ichigo frowned. He could almost _feel_ the bloodlust emanating from the man, not to mention his reiatsu… "Yes, the last and worst. _Avada Kedavra_… the killing curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and Ichigo leaned forward expectantly. This was intel that he couldn't afford to miss out on. A sudden thrill ran through the classroom, and there was an intake of breath.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Moody roared.

#

Muahaha, evil cliffhanger! Don't worry though, since I'm doing daily updates, you only have to wait a day to see what happens!

I guess some people were surprised at how Ichigo went all 'Byakuya' on the Golden Trio, and I suppose I have to explain the changes in Ichigo's personality. He basically merged with his inner hollow, becoming the 'perfect hybrid'. Because he merged with his hollow, he adopted some of the hollow's physical traits, such as the golden eyes and the white hair when he's worked up, as well as personality traits. He's become a bit colder and occasionally a bit bloodthirsty. I think you can see his attitude changes in his actions. I tried really hard to write him with a different personality, and I really like the way it turned out.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you tomorrow for the next daily update! Also, I'm sorry to say that school starts exactly a week from today, so the daily updates will end then. See you next time!

~fokker333


	9. Chapter 9

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible force was soaring through the air. Instantly, the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several girls stifled cries; Ichigo smirked as he saw Weasley throw himself backwards and almost topple off his seat as the spider skidded towards him.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor. "Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Ichigo rolled his eyes in annoyance at Moody's purposefully drawing attention towards Potter. Now all eyes were on the scarred boy, who had a strangely blank look in his eyes, as if he was reminiscing about something. Deciding to take some embarrassment off the boy, Ichigo stood up and pushed his chair back somewhat noisily, breaking the silence.

"Excuse me, Professor," he said, making his way towards the front of the class. "Did you say that it couldn't be blocked?"

"That's what I said, Mr. Kurosaki," Moody said, eyes narrowed. "Did you not hear what I said?"

"Just wanted to confirm," Ichigo said mildly. "Do you think it could be possible to block the killing curse, maybe using some sort of magical object?"

Moody frowned, and Ichigo felt annoyance as well as bloodlust emanating from the man's reiatsu. "Not that I know of. I'm an ex-Auror, been in the business probably longer than you've been alive, boy, and I've never heard or seen something that could block the killing curse."

Ichigo snorted at the thought that Moody had been an Auror longer than he had been alive. That would have to mean that the man became an Auror almost seventy years ago, and he clearly wasn't that old. "Could you cast it at me then?"

Harry gaped at that request, and he could tell many of his classmates were doing the same. "_What?_" someone gasped from somewhere in the room.

Moody's jaw dropped at Ichigo's seemingly insane request. Ichigo rolled his eyes, the golden pupils glinting in annoyance. "As an official magical envoy from Japan, I guarantee that there will be no damage to my person if you do so. I'd like to try something out, and if it doesn't work, I'll just dodge out of the way."

Moody blinked, and Ichigo sighed inwardly. Apparently wizards had never thought about _dodging_ the killing curse. His initial observation of the wizards seemed to be proved correct: magic was making them soft and complacent. Honestly, how could the man even _fight_ with a leg like that?

A shadow crossed Moody's face, and his expression hardened. "Alright," he grunted. "But if you die, all these students are witnesses to see that you asked for it."

Ichigo smirked. "Come on then." Drawing his ornately carved shell of a wand from a hidden holster in his sleeve, he readied himself for what he was trying to do.

Moody gave him ample time to prepare himself, and cast the curse with a sharp jab of his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

The students all gasped as they watched the sickly green spell make its way through the air towards the orange-haired Japanese envoy. They were all too fixated on the killing curse to notice the red glow building up at the tip of Ichigo's wand. Pouring as much reiatsu into the spell as possible, since Ichigo didn't want to take any chances, he chanted, "_||Disintegrate, you black dog of Rodanini! Look upon yourself in horror and then claw out your own throat!|| Bakudou no. 9, Geki!"_

The green glow of the killing curse impacted the tip of Ichigo's wand, and the entire class froze as they stared at what was happening.

Ichigo whistled as he looked at the green killing curse wrapped in the glowing red of the temporal stasis spell. "Perfect," he muttered, ignoring the aghast stares of all present. He tossed the red-wrapped killing curse casually into the air, inciting small gasps, shrieks, and instinctive ducking of heads from around the classroom.

#

Harry stared as the Japanese envoy pulled some strange-looking device from within his coat and wondered idly how the man could fit a machine as large as his head inside a coat without people noticing a bump that apparently wasn't there. Inserting the entire wand, still holding the killing curse at the tip, into the machine, the Japanese wizard fixed his eyes on a screen of some sort, apparently forgetting about the existence of every single student in the classroom, along with Moody himself, who was staring in confusion at the man, both normal and magical eyes staring at the strange machine he held.

There was a beeping sound from the machine, and the Japanese envoy pulled his wand out of the machine, evidently satisfied with whatever was on the small screen he had been staring at. Stowing away the device beneath his coat again, still leaving no visible bump to Harry's bewilderment, Captain Kurosaki fished something small and glinting from an inside pocket.

Harry looked closer and found that it was a small silver tube, about the size of his thumb, open at one end. Captain Kurosaki took on a look of concentration, and he couldn't help but stare as the killing curse shrank inside the red glow, becoming about the size of a marble rather than the baseball it had been previously. He heard Hermione whisper "Impossible!" from beside him and silently agreed. He watched as the Captain directed the curse into the silver cartridge. Once it was fully inside, there was a small flash of black light, which somehow seemed oxymoronic to Harry, and the silver cartridge sealed itself off somehow, a silver cap appearing to cover the open end, closing the supposedly unstoppable, unblockable curse inside.

The Captain started suddenly, turning his gleaming golden eyes back to the students and Harry winced as a strangled sob came from Neville. Apparently seeing the Cruciatus and thinking about his parents, plus the fear-inducing gaze of the Japanese wizard, was enough to cause the poor boy to lose his nerve completely.

#

Ichigo shook himself to his senses again. "Sorry, I was a bit, uh, caught up with what I was doing," he said, not really apologetically, as he dropped the cartridge with the curse inside into a hidden pocket. Hopefully the students were too shocked by his containing of the curse that nobody noticed the fact that his machine had apparently vanished. He didn't want too many questions about his little pocket dimension back inside his coat. Ichigo cursed the genius scientist in him, as well as the impulsiveness his hollow personality had given him. Although it came in handy sometimes, it wasn't really helpful when he was trying to keep a low profile.

He still was curious about the killing curse, though. According to the Onmitsukidou scouts during the Voldemort incident fifteen years ago, the killing curse forcibly removed the soul from the body, similar to what Rukia's glove did. However, unlike the glove, it seemed to also cut the soul chain linking the soul to the body, causing the soul to quickly turn into a hollow. Although it seemed that preliminary tests with his portable device seemed to support that theory, he couldn't confirm it until he was able to get access to the full lab. Maybe he would take a quick trip back to Soul Society to give the contained curse to Urahara. He was also looking forward to fulfilling his promise to visit Rukia as often as he could. He also made a mental note to meet with Momo, Hisagi, and Renji. They had been good friends with Kira, and they had been devastated when he had died.

Turning to Moody, who seemed to still be in shock, Ichigo calmly pointed at the clock. "Professor Moody, I believe your class is over. Thank you for obliging my request." Standing from his chair without a noise, he soundlessly exited the classroom, the door shutting with a soft _click_ behind him.

Ichigo strode through the doors, contemplating what had just occurred. If what Moody had said was true, then Potter had somehow survived the killing curse. He didn't think that it would work on a shinigami or a hollow, since technically they were already dead, but to be hit directly as a human would be deadly. He would have to do some research on Potter, to see under what circumstances the curse had been cast on him.

Ichigo stopped abruptly as a sudden thought occurred to him. Could Potter have been the baby the reports had spoken about? The Onmitsukidou report of the Voldemort incident said that the main part of Voldemort's soul, the part that had occupied his body fifteen years ago, had died after Riddle attacked a family. Both parents had been killed, according to reports, but the baby had survived. If Potter was that baby… things just got a lot more interesting.

"Oof!" Ichigo turned as he felt someone run into his back. Apparently standing in the middle of the hallway was not something people expected in England. He froze when he caught sight of the person sitting on the floor, her books scattered around her.

The face was different, but the reiatsu was definitely the same. _Kira…_

"Sorry about that," Ichigo said softly, a warm look on his face, which surprised some of the people passing in the hall. He bent down and helped the young blonde girl collect her books again, placing them into her bag.

"You're Captain Kurosaki," said the blonde quietly, and Ichigo had a sudden flashback of Kira during their mission to Hueco Mundo, when he had defended Ichigo against the venomous verbal attacks of Abarai.

"Yes, I am," Ichigo said, still somewhat shell-shocked at feeling that reiatsu after so long. "And you are?"

"Lune Lovegood," the blonde said, and Ichigo smiled kindly.

"That's a lovely name," he said, and Luna blinked in mild surprise. "You know, in Japan, many in the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Squads have given my wife the nickname 'the White Moon'."

"Why is that?" Luna wondered. "It's a lovely nickname as well."

Ichigo grinned as he thought of Rukia and her fighting style. "It's because of the way she fights," he said, and the gold in his eyes seemed to warm slightly, appearing more amber than gold. "Her blade is pure white, and her style is graceful and beautiful. They call her the most beautiful fighter in the Gotei 13."

"You must be very proud of her," Luna remarked.

Ichigo nodded earnestly, drawing a wry smile from the blonde. "I am," he confirmed. "I'm a very lucky guy to have her."

"I'm sure she's also very lucky to have you," said Luna. "You seem like a very remarkable person as well."

Ichigo laughed. This time it wasn't a sinister-sounding, sadistic cackle. Instead, it was a warm, lively laugh. It sounded like a laugh a proud parent would give as they watched their child take its first steps or speak its first words.

If passerby had been watching, they would have seen the gold completely fade from his eyes, becoming a warm amber color. Experienced fighters would also have noticed that Ichigo's body, which seemed to be stuck in a permanently tense stance, coiled like a snake ready to strike, relaxed considerably as he spoke about his wife. Although he was still prepared for an attack, his stance lacked paranoia. His entire attitude had changed.

"You love her very much," observed Luna.

Ichigo nodded.

"I would love to meet her sometime," the blonde remarked, "along with some of your companions. From what I've read about it, Japan sounds like a lovely place. And your wife sounds like a wonderful person."

Ichigo smiled. "Maybe sometime in the future they'll come visit me at Hogwarts," he said with a soft chuckle. "My friends do enjoy surprising me sometimes. I think you would like them very much." He was of course referring to the shinigami that Kira had been close to. Although the possibility was slim that Luna retained Kira's memories, Ichigo was sure that Hisagi, Momo, and Renji would love to meet Luna.

"Oh, here we are!" Luna said, and Ichigo realized that while they were talking they had walked from one side of the castle to the other, where Luna's next class apparently was. "Thank you for walking and talking with me, Kurosaki-taicho, it was a very nice experience."

Ichigo froze. "Sorry, what did you just call me?" _It has to be a coincidence_.

Luna looked confused. "I'm sorry, did I say something weird?"

Ichigo shook his head. "No, it's nothing, I'm sorry. Anyways, it was very pleasant to talk with you as well. Now, you should get going, or you're going to be late."

Luna nodded. "Thank you, Captain Kurosaki."

Ichigo smiled again. "Please, call me Ichigo."

Luna smiled again, and Ichigo was struck by her smile. Although their faces were different, her smile was exactly the same as Kira's. "Ichigo, then. _||Ja ne, Ichigo-taicho. I hope we can meet again soon.||_"

Before he could say anything, the blonde had skipped into the classroom, leaving a dumbstruck Ichigo standing outside, thoughts racing through his mind. _I never thought… the odds are astronomical, but it's still possible. Could it be…? _

#

Woo! Next chapter up! Don't have anything to say really, except some other shinigami might be making a visit to Hogwarts in the future! Hope you guys enjoyed this one, and I'll see you tomorrow!

~fokker333


	10. Chapter 10

Nothing much happened in the next few days Ichigo spent at Hogwarts, although he did make sure to keep a closer eye on the Potter boy. If the reports and the reason he was here were true and Voldemort was about to return to a functioning body, then no doubt Potter would be Riddle's prime target. It wasn't a strategically sound plan, to target someone in the middle of a well-protected school with many powerful teachers around, but it was simply human tendency. Riddle would target Potter simply for ego's sake. Surely it wouldn't be good for the so-called 'Dark Lord' if he wanted to gather his followers to be known by the legacy of being defeated by a mere baby.

One morning, however, Ichigo woke up to an irritated owl pecking at his head.

"Ow, what the hell!" Ichigo shouted, lashing out instinctively, accidentally batting the owl in the head and knocking it head over claws backwards in an explosion of feathers and a startled _squawk!_ "Crap… sorry," Ichigo said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

The owl hooted indignantly, pecking Ichigo again and dropping an envelope on his chest before flapping its way out of the open window. Ichigo rolled his eyes and turned them to the envelope, slitting it with a small dagger which he then returned up his sleeve. Skimming over the contents of the letter from the Headmaster, Ichigo smirked. It seemed that the representatives from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be arriving today. This would be interesting.

Ichigo crouched on the roof above the courtyard where the entire school had assembled to await the arrival of the two other schools. He didn't like crowds, but he didn't want to miss this. He listened idly as the crowd below babbled on.

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row, where he stood with the other teachers, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

Ichigo's sharp eyes and senses had picked up on the approaching giant flying carriage a while back, but the wizards didn't have that advantage.

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth-year, pointing over the Forest.

Ichigo watched as the flying carriage grow larger, and rolled his eyes as the students freaked out, trying to guess what the large flying object was.

The giant carriage landed and Ichigo was slightly surprised at the size of the horses pulling them, but he had seen hollows that were much larger than these. A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Ichigo's eyes widened at the size of the woman who stepped out immediately afterwards. The woman was easily the size of Zaraki Kenpachi.

Dumbledore started to clap. The students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile, and she walked forwards towards Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice that caused Ichigo to choke a bit, "I 'ope I find you well?"

Ichigo remembered that Beauxbatons was located in France, which explained the accent. He winced slightly as he also realized that it was more than likely that the students would be dressed according to the French weather and would probably be unprepared for the chilly English climate.

He was right. They were shivering, with a few of them having wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Ichigo could see of their faces, they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses-

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation which has arisen with some of his other, er, charges."

"My steeds require, er, forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong…"

Ichigo snorted in amusement. He could probably handle them by himself. Animals were instinctive creatures, and they usually knew when they were in the presence of a being much greater and more powerful than them.

"I assume you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly, "will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

Madame Maxime was about to lead her students inside when Dumbledore seemed to remember something. Ichigo rolled his eyes again. It took the old man long enough to remember.

"Ah, before you go inside, my dear Madame," he said, catching the large woman's attention, "I would like to introduce you to a special guest we at Hogwarts are very privileged to host this year. We have with us Ichigo Kurosaki, special envoy of the magical government of Japan. He is here representing his government as they begin to open themselves up to the rest of the magical world."

"Wonderful!" said Madame Maxime. "I am very 'appy to 'ear zat. But where is he?" she wondered, looking around. Ichigo smirked from the roof. This was his cue. Oh, how he loved dramatic entrances.

Maxime and her students started as he appeared in a flurry of black, his overcoat billowing around his figure, before her, kneeling politely. Standing, he took her hand and kissed it. "Greetings, Madame Maxime," he said. "It is a pleasure to meet such an esteemed member of the French magical community."

Maxime seemed to be dumbstruck for a moment at his sudden appearance, but before she could say anything somebody shouted from the crowd behind them, "The lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water – except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface. Waves were washing over the muddy banks. Then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.

Ichigo was slightly surprised. He didn't think that the wizards had assimilated with mundane technology enough to acquire a submarine or similar. It turned out he was right. A skeletal-looking ship which, Ichigo estimated, looked to be about late 17th century in design, rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. Dim, misty lights shimmered at its portholes, looking like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, Ichigo heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People began disembarking; Ichigo could make out their faces as they passed the lights in the ship's portholes. He noted that all of them were muscular and large. It seemed at first that they were bulky and broad-shouldered as a whole, but Ichigo saw that they were covered in heavy, shaggy brown fur coats. But the man that was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you my dear fellow, how are you?"

Ichigo frowned as he took in the man's reiatsu. It seemed normal enough, except for an odd dark, slimy reiatsu that oozed off the man's right arm, similar to Snape and Moody. Another potential variable in his plans, apparently.

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice, and Ichigo disliked him immediately for it. The thin man reminded him of the haughty Kuchiki elders when they initially tried to prevent him from marrying Rukia. Luckily, Byakuya was able to pull some strings and they shut up after that.

"And who is this?" Karkaroff asked after greeting Madame Maxime, looking at Ichigo with a critical eye.

Ichigo bowed politely, causing Karkaroff to raise an eyebrow in surprise. "My name is Ichigo Kurosaki," he said, "special envoy of the magical government of Japan, captain of the Twelfth division of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Squads, president of the Research and Development Institute, minor lord of the Kuchiki clan. It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Karkaroff."

Dumbledore chuckled merrily at both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff's slightly startled expressions. "Captain Kurosaki here has a great many titles," he said with amusement. He clapped his hands, attracting the attention of all, including the Hogwarts students who were apparently gawking at a particular Durmstrang student. "Now! Let us go inside to warm up, I am sure none of you want to stay out here in the cold for very long."

They turned and strode up the lawn towards the castle, but before they could take many steps, startled yells caused many to turned their heads back around, trying to see what the source of the commotion was.

Ichigo knew that things were about to get very, very complicated as he felt the familiar feeling of an opening senkai gate. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, facepalming. Dumbledore, Maxime, and Karkaroff looked at him curiously. "I didn't really expect them to actually come. Apparently Luna has the ability to predict the future…"

The students and teachers, English, French, and Norwegian alike gasped and gaped as a set of glowing Eastern-style rice-paper doors appeared in the air. Ichigo straightened his clothing and strode forward towards the doors, which slid open, revealing a blinding white portal.

Five figures, none of which the European wizards recognized, stepped onto the grass, their woven sandals padding softly against the ground as they lined up facing the crowd of students and teachers. The doors slid shut behind them with a _clack_, vanishing mysteriously into the air.

Ichigo took in the sight of his comrades, who had apparently come to visit him at the perfect time. Turning back to the crowd of wizards and witches, he gestured to the five shinigami, although the magicals did not know them as such. "It appears that some of my companions have decided to join us here at Hogwarts," he said, his voice carrying through the chilly English air. "Allow me to introduce them.

At his nod, the first figure, a tall man with a scarred and tattooed face, wearing some sort of Japanese robe with a katana like Ichigo's sheathed at his waist, stepped forward. He stood stock-still, his sharp eyes taking in those before him.

"This is Hisagi Shuuhei, Vice-captain of the Ninth division, editor-in-chief of the Seireitei Monthly." Bowing politely to the wizards, Hisagi took a step back, and the next figure stepped forward.

To the surprise and bewilderment of many in the crowd, this one was rather short. Although he looked about the age of an older teenager, his hair was completely white, a white purer than even that of Dumbledore's hair. Dressed in the same robe as Hisagi, the wizards also noted that he wore a sleeveless white cloak with a turquoise lining, with a similarly-colored scarf wrapped around his neck. A thin golden chain with an elaborate clasp crossed his chest diagonally, and the hilt of a katana was visible over his shoulder, sheathed in a style similar to Ichigo's. Many girls in the crowd, especially the French ones, sighed dreamily at his eyes, which were a stunning teal-green hue.

"This is Hitsugaya Toushiro, Captain of the Tenth division, and a close friend of mine." Like Hisagi before him, Toushiro bowed politely and stepped back in line.

The next one, surprisingly, was a girl about the same age as Toushiro, with a warm and kind face. Her hair was tied in a bun behind her head, with two thicker bangs framing either side of her face. Her eyes were soft and friendly, and she smiled a dazzling smile. A katana was sheathed at her waist also.

"This is Hitsugaya Momo," Ichigo said, causing some gasps from the crowd, along with sighs of disappointment, as many realized what her name meant. "She is the wife to Captain Hitsugaya, Captain of the Fifth division, and is known as a kidou master within the Gotei 13." Momo bowed also, stepping back like those before her to rejoin the five.

Ichigo's sharp ears heard someone in the crowd mutter, "But she and that shorty look so _young_! And they're married?" and sighed. There clearly would be some explaining to do.

The next figure was tall and carried a noble air about him. It wasn't haughty like Lucius Malfoy, but the man still held a commanding presence. His black hair was held by several ivory, exquisitely carved clips, and an expensive-looking silk scarf was wrapped around his neck loosely. A sleeveless white cloak, similar to Toushiro's, albeit with golden lining and a high collar, graced his shoulders, and white fingerless gloves covered the back of his hands. His katana was sheathed traditionally at his waist.

"This is Kuchiki Byakuya," Ichigo introduced, and bowed to the man, which surprised many of the onlookers. "He is the 28th Head of the Noble Kuchiki Family and Captain of the Sixth division."

Finally, the last figure stepped forward. She was a shorter woman, girl even, but she held the same commanding air as Byakuya had before her. A similar white cloak as those before her framed her body, and although her robes themselves were black many of those watching had the feeling that the girl exuded an aura of pure white. White fingerless gloves like Byakuya also covered her hands, although unlike Byakuya's they extended to her elbows. Unlike the four shinigami introduced before her, she had not a single katana, but a pair. One, with a pure white hilt and white silk tassel extending from the pommel was sheathed at her waist, and another, an exact copy of the first, although looking as though it was crafted out of ice, was sheathed diagonally across her back. A bonelike clip, also exquisitely carved, adorned her hair, which was cut short in a bob, with a single bang falling across her face. Violet eyes stared sharply at the crowd, and many were struck dumb by her beauty and quiet grace.

"And finally," said Ichigo, and many were shocked at the soft smile that had crossed his face and at the way his golden eyes warmed to amber, "allow me to introduce Kuchiki Rukia, princess of the Noble House of Kuchiki, Captain of the Thirteenth division of the Imperial Court Guard Squads, kidou master, known to many in the Gotei 13 as 'The White Moon,' and…" Ichigo paused, and the soft smile widened into a grin that was neither bloodthirsty nor sadistic. "My wife."

#

Here's the next chapter! The highly-anticipated entrance of the other shinigami to Hogwarts, as well as the entrance of the delegates for the Tri-wizard Tournament! Also, I'm sorry to say that this will most likely be the last daily update for this story. School starts in a few days, and I've been catching up on summer homework (ew), so I haven't had much time to write lately. As a result, the updates will come less often, though I will still try to maintain a consistent rate. Thanks for reading, drop a review if you can, and I'll see you next time!

~fokker333


	11. Chapter 11

Ichigo looked on, amused, as his companions attempted to accommodate themselves with English wizarding culture. Byakuya looked around at the wizards' choice of décor of the Great Hall with mild disdain, although he did nod approvingly when Japanese-style dishes and utensils appeared magically once the meal began.

Hisagi merely took everything in impassively. Ichigo smirked. Hisagi was the perfect soldier, always accounting for new variables without blinking an eye. Ichigo was glad that Abarai hadn't tagged along with the five shinigami who had come to Hogwarts. Although the loud-mouthed vice-captain's attitude had gotten better in the last fifty or so years, he still tended to blurt things out that could potentially compromise their cover.

Toushiro was stoic and quiet as ever, eating delicately as befitted his rank. Ichigo silently hoped that there would be watermelon for dessert. It was always entertaining to watch Toushiro make his way through a giant mound of watermelon, a feat that seemed impossible for one with as small a stature as he.

Momo was chatting cheerfully with some of the teachers, who appeared to have many questions to ask. The friendly and outgoing captain of the Fifth division always made friends easily. There were many reasons the Fifth was now one of the most popular divisions in the Gotei 13, but Captain Hitsugaya Momo was the first and foremost. Kind and compassionate, but also a commanding leader and fierce in combat, she was loved and respected by all her subordinates.

Ichigo turned his head to look at his wife, who was sitting beside him. She had grown taller in the last half a century, although not nearly enough to match Ichigo's 6'5" frame. She had trimmed her hairstyle a few decades back to a shorter, bob cut that framed her face and brought out her stunning violet eyes.

He was brought out of his reverie by a sharp elbow to his ribs, causing him to grunt slightly. _She still never changes…_ "Ouch," he muttered, shooting a mock glare at his wife. "What was that for?"

Rukia shook her head in mock disapproval. "Honestly, Ichigo," she said, a slight smirk on her face. "Did you really miss me that much in the few weeks you've been gone that you're eyeing me the entire meal?"

"Shut up, Rukia," Ichigo said jokingly. "Is it wrong that I'm happy to see my wife?"

Rukia rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her food. Toushiro chuckled and rolled his eyes at the couple's antics.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Captain Hitsugaya?" an older-looking witch asked. Toushiro remembered her introducing herself as Minerva McGonagall, the Transfigurations Professor and Deputy Headmistress.

Toushiro turned his attention to the woman, whom he caught eyeing his hair. He sighed. "Not at all, Professor. However, I suppose I must warn you that if you ask questions that encroach upon classified matters, I am obligated not to answer them."

Ichigo snorted at the white-haired prodigy's cold attitude. Few in Soul Society had the privilege of knowing Toushiro's soft side, and he counted himself lucky enough to be in that exclusive few.

"Exactly how old are you?" Toushiro stiffened, although the shinigami, those who were familiar with Toushiro's mannerisms, noticed. It was a question that they had been anticipating and had taken precautions for. Although they all had aged since Ichigo first entered Soul Society, with Ichigo looking mid-twenties, with Toushiro, Momo, and Rukia looking like they were in their late teens, the fact that they were 'already' married despite their apparently young ages was sure to bring up questions.

"I am twenty-four years old," Toushiro replied stiffly, causing McGonagall and some other teachers who were also listening to start with surprise. "We in the Gotei 13 age rather slower than our normal magical counterparts."

"Oh?" asked the Headmaster, his eyes twinkling with interest. "If I may, why exactly is that?"

This time, it was Byakuya who answered. "Because of the nature of our powers, which are slightly different from both mundanes and wizards, our growth and aging are slowed down quite a bit. We estimate that for every two years that pass, our appearance changes by about one year." Of course, in reality the aging rate for shinigami was much, much slower, with about ten years of regular time corresponding to one year of aging, but there was no need for the wizards to know that.

"How does your magic differ from ours that causes this decrease in aging?" Snape asked. Ichigo grimaced in annoyance. Trust the Potions Master to ask the difficult questions. He decided to answer this one, since he was more familiar with the technical aspects of kidou.

"If I may answer that question, Potions Master," Ichigo interjected smoothly, "the answer is deeply ingrained with the nature of magic itself. You see, you English wizards use magic by drawing power from your magical cores, something which in Japan we call _reiatsu_. To cast your spells, you draw on the power from your magical core and focus and shape them through your wands. We in the Gotei 13, in using our kidou, manifest our reiatsu. In essence, we use raw, unadulterated magic in our spells."

The wizards and witches looked dumbstruck at what Ichigo had just said. "That's not possible!" snarled Snape, looking very shocked. "There's no way to shape and use pure magic!"

Ichigo tsked mildly. "And yet, it is. Is it not possible that you've simply never heard about it?" he asked. "After all, we Japanese have cut ourselves off from the rest of the magical world until recently. Would it not be logical that we know things about magic that you English do not?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Captain Kurosaki makes a good point, Severus," he said mildly. "After all, I'm sure we English have at least _some_ things that they do not know about."

Ichigo nodded in agreement, although he doubted there were many secrets the English wizards could keep from the Gotei 13.

#

Harry and Ron both winced as Hermione elbowed them in the ribs, causing them to stop gawking at the French girl with the long silvery blonde hair. "Honestly!" she huffed. "Anyways, what do you think of these new Japanese wizards?" she asked.

"Huh?" asked Ron absently, his mind clearly still on the French girl.

Harry was slightly more clearheaded, so he responded, "What do you mean, what do we think about them?"

"Well, the first thing I would like to know is how those two are married. They look hardly older than some of the Seventh Years!" Hermione said, somewhat exasperated by the slowness of her companions.

Ron finally seemed to snap out of his reverie beside her and began digging in enthusiastically into the food. Speaking through a mouthful of half-chewed chicken, to Harry's revulsion, he said, "I guess they just get married younger in Japan. Don't a lot of Asian countries have arranged marriages still?"

Hermione snapped her fingers. "Of course! That might be it!" The she frowned thoughtfully. "But they don't seem very unhappy about it. I also wonder about Captain Hitsugaya's hair. He's far too young for it to be that white…"

"Freaky little git," Ron remarked, finally swallowing his mouthful of food, to Harry's relief. "Him and Kurosaki."

"_Captain_ Kurosaki!" hissed Hermione. "Show some respect!"

"Why should I?" asked Ron indignantly. "That freak doesn't show me any respect, why should I show him respect?"

"Because," Hermione said exasperatedly, "you didn't do anything to _earn_ it. Ever since he came to Hogwarts, you've been nothing but rude to him."

"He's a bloody Death Eater!" exclaimed Ron. "Why shouldn't I be rude? He's no different than that bastard Malfoy!"

Hermione sighed loudly. "In case you forgot," she ground out slowly, as if talking to a small child, "Captain Kurosaki _fought_ Malfoy. Senior, that is. I wonder what happened to those Death Eaters who he knocked out at the World Cup?" she mused.

Harry spoke up. "Didn't Mr. Weasley say something about rumors about them paying their way out? And now I expect those high-ranking purebloods are gonna want blood. I doubt the Ministry is gonna take kindly to a foreigner coming in and assaulting high-ranking members of society." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He didn't have the highest opinion of the Ministry, especially after the whole Dementor situation the previous year and the fiasco with his godfather, Sirius Black.

Apparently, Harry's words were a jinx, because no sooner had he finished speaking than the doors of the Great Hall banged open, revealing the stout figure of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, flanked by a contingent of Aurors. Ignoring the stares and glares of the students, especially the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang ones, Fudge and the Aurors, about a dozen of them, strode up the length of the hall.

#

"Ichigo, what did you do this time?" asked Toushiro, a small smirk on his face.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "There was an incident at the Quidditch World Cup," he said, bored. "There was a crowd of Death Eaters, or at least people dressed like Death Eaters, attacking people. I intervened and took out fourteen of them, but someone else cast some spell, sending a giant glowing skull and snake into the air, and they scattered. Now apparently the English Ministry as after my blood because the Death Eaters I knocked out had connections." He snorted in disgust. "Politics. The entire government is corrupt, in my opinion. Or oblivious, at best."

He watched as the stout man leading the group of Aurors stomped his way to the dais, his face grim. "I thought that the Ministry would avoid a direct confrontation during the Tri-wizard Tournament, since it would give them a bad image. Apparently I was wrong. They're either too stupid to realize the reputation they'll get, or the Ministry is in the pockets of the Death Eaters, who want me out of the picture."

Ichigo ignored the Aurors, who now had their wands out and pointed directly at him, and resumed his meal. Dumbledore stood up from the table and faced the Aurors. "Cornelius, what is the meaning of this?" he asked. Ichigo snorted. Apparently the Minister of Magic himself had come to try and arrest him. How pathetic.

"Stand aside, Dumbledore," said the stout man, apparently Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. "This man is wanted by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for assaulting over a dozen fine upstanding British citizens."

Dumbledore was about to respond when Ichigo waved a hand laconically. "Don't bother, Headmaster," he said. "While I'm sure you have good intentions, allow me to handle this." Turning to the Minister and the Aurors, he stood, holding his hands up to indicate that he wasn't armed. Although he had no intention of surrendering to this fool of a Minister, he didn't want stray spells being cast. Such things tended to result in collateral damage, and he certainly didn't want to be responsible for students getting hurt.

Fudge coughed and puffed himself up, declaring pompously, "Ichigo Kurosaki, you are hereby under arrest by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for fourteen counts of assault. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He said the last phrase very slowly, as if he believed Ichigo couldn't speak English.

Byakuya raised an eyebrow at the condescending manner this short man before him spoke to his brother-in-law. He was of half a mind to teach this fool who exactly he was insulting, but refrained from doing so. Ichigo could handle this situation himself. And handle it he did.

"Yes, I'm sure that would be the case, if those fourteen men I 'assaulted' weren't Death Eaters that the Ministry has conveniently not convicted for their actions from fifteen years ago during the rampage of the so-called Lord Voldemort." Ichigo ignored the gasps from around the Great Hall and the outraged expression on Fudge's face and continued. "Additionally, even if they _were_ 'fine and upstanding,' as you referred to them, you would not be able to arrest me. I have diplomatic immunity granted to me by the magical government of Japan. If you attempt to detain me and violate this diplomatic immunity, you would be facing myself and my five companions here, and I assure you, it would not end well. For you, that is. Additionally, I am absolutely certain that the state of your government as it is now would not be able to support a full-out war against magical Japan."

Ichigo watched amusedly as Fudge swelled indignantly like a toad. "Take him!" the stout man barked at the Aurors, who rushed forward, intent upon taking Ichigo into custody.

In a blink of an eye, the Aurors froze as they felt razor-sharp blades at their throats. Nobody had seen the Japanese 'wizards' move, but there they were, blades drawn and ready. The short girl with the twin blades had both her blades out, pressing against the necks of two Aurors while the ribbons of both wrapped around the wand arms of two others, effectively negating their ability to fight.

The tall man with the scarred and tattooed face had pinned an Auror to the ground, the tip of his katana tickling the shorter man's throat. His hand was held, palm facing a second Auror, who found himself completely immobilized by some sort of spell.

The captain with the commanding presence and noble air had his blade at one Auror's throat, with a handgun drawn and pressed to the temple of another.

The short white-haired captain also had drawn his katana, which some very perceptive people noticed was significantly longer than his comrades', pressed lightly against the chest of an Auror, while the barrel of his handgun was held against the back of another.

The young woman with the warm face had completely changed demeanor, her expression hard and serious as her blade brushed against an Auror's face, her hand glowing red as she prepared some sort of spell.

As for Ichigo himself, he had his midnight-black katana drawn and pressed against the throat of Fudge himself, as well as the barrel of his handgun aimed squarely at the Minister's chest. Fudge swallowed nervously as Ichigo's golden eyes, now glowing with anger and bloodlust, stared into his.

"I did warn you, _Minister_," Ichigo spat out contemptuously. "that it would not end well for you if you tried anything. And yet you decided to ignore my warning and try something anyways. Now look at the situation you're in. I don't care if you're the Minister of Magic or some fucking wannabe god, if you piss me off you will suffer the consequences. And the wannabe god didn't end well, either. I will let you off without harm this time, but remember this: the next time my diplomatic immunity is violated, all of magical Britain will find itself poised on the edge of a war against magical Japan. Don't make Japan's first act of exiting its isolation be a declaration of war against you, Minister."

Pulling back from the now-sweating man's face, Ichigo sheathed his blade and holstered his handgun. "Stand down," he said, and his companions relaxed, sheathing their own weapons. "I find myself growing tired of this whole situation," Ichigo said, turning his back on the Minister and the Aurors. "I am going to my room. Kuchiki-taicho, Hisagi-fukutaicho, Hitsugaya-taicho, Momo-taicho, Rukia-taicho, please come with me. We have some important matters to discuss." Without a sound, he vanished in a billow of his black coat. The rest of the Japanese vanished similarly, although with a distinct swishing sound.

The Great Hall was speechless for a long time. Finally, Fudge recovered and turned on his heel, not saying anything. He walked quickly out of the Great Hall, his Aurors following, and the grand double doors slammed shut on a very shocked assembly of students and teachers.

#

Well, here's the next chapter! I hope you guys liked it, and drop a review if you would be so kind! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you for the next update!

~fokker333


	12. Chapter 12

Ichigo snorted contemptuously as he exited the Great Hall, dropping out of his specialized silent movement technique, hearing his companions do the same behind him. "Wizards," he spat.

Byakuya smirked at Ichigo's back. "Even after so long, your temper still gets the best of you."

"Oh, shut up," Ichigo said, but the minute amusement in his voice was easily noticed by his companions, who had known him and his mannerisms for a long time.

"From what I heard, the government here seems to be rather corrupt," Hisagi voiced, speaking up for the first time. "If the people you incapacitated at this World Cup were truly Death Eaters that have significant power and influence in the Ministry, then no doubt they were the ones who manipulated the Minister of Magic to try and detain you."

Ichigo nodded. "So you've all been briefed on the situation?"

They nodded affirmative. Momo asked a question that had been sitting on the other shinigami's minds for a while. "Who were those men that were with the Minister? Their positioning implied that they were bodyguards or security or something like that."

"They're called Aurors," Ichigo replied with a roll of his eyes. "They're supposed to be the wizarding equivalent of police, I suppose. Their job is primarily to catch Dark Wizards, but it seems like they've become the personal yes-men of the Minister, and thus indirectly, to the influential Death Eaters who have somehow managed to avoid conviction by the Ministry. Then again, I'm not surprised at their ineptness."

Rukia nudged him from behind. "If they give you any trouble, don't hesitate to call on us for backup. If you really need it, I think Yamamoto-soutaicho might even allow a few high-ranking shinigami to join the mission temporarily, or even permanently. He really wants Riddle gone, and forever this time."

Ichigo nodded. "So how long are you guys staying?" he asked. "You are aware of the international magical tournament that will be taking place in a few days?"

Toushiro nodded. "We were given a few weeks' leave by the captain-commander. Things are quiet in Soul Society, so we decided to pay you a visit. Just in time, it seems. I'm curious to see how these wizards do combat. This tournament is designed to challenge the abilities of the wizards, right? I personally rather want to watch this tournament and see for myself."

The others voiced their agreement. Ichigo thought about it a bit. "I think that your stay for the tournament should be approved by the Headmaster. I know that the tournament consists of three challenges spread out over the school year, so I don't know how practical it would be for you to stay for the whole thing in one go, or if Yamamoto-soutaicho will allow it. I think the best strategy would be for you to come a few days before each task and leave shortly afterward."

"A wise observation, Ichigo," Byakuya remarked. "But enough about us. How has your stay been in the wizarding world?"

Ichigo grimaced. "It's been alright for the most part, although I've discovered a few things about the wizards that are rather irritating, if not downright stupid. Firstly, most wizards seem to possess some sort of inbred belief that they are somehow better than non-magicals. Some of them take this belief even further, to the point that they think pureblooded wizards are superior to those who are not. The equivalent of wizarding royalty, it seems." Ichigo nodded to Byakuya, who knew where he was going with this. "Although the idea of royalty is not a harmful one, in fact in some cases they are beneficial to the people, such as the Kuchiki Family, these pureblood supremacists look down upon those they consider beneath them, to the point that they mistreat their so-called 'inferiors' and call them derogatory names. It is a concept that largely contributed to, if not was the base cause behind, the initial Riddle incident fifteen years ago."

He stopped in front of a large painting on the wall. The others looked it over curiously. It depicted a desert realm, illuminated by a bright moon, with a dark-looking sun opposite it, and a single, stunted tree. Ichigo tapped on a specific knot on the tree and said clearly yet quietly, "Black sun."

The others smirked at the password, knowing exactly why he had chosen such words. The painting, which was actually a concealed door, swung outward, allowing access to the chamber that was Ichigo's room within.

"Are we secure?" asked Toushiro. Ichigo, Byakuya, Rukia, and Momo didn't even spare him a look as they began casting various kidou shields around the room, designed to block vision and hearing into the room, both normal and magical, as well as defensive shields, in case of an attack. Despite the fact than an attack wasn't likely due to the fact that Hogwarts was a school, all the shinigami had learned never to be careless about security.

"We are now," Ichigo announced when they finished. He strode over to a low table in front of the fireplace, surrounded by comfortable couches. "Have a seat. Drinks?"

Hisagi and Momo politely declined, while Byakuya settled for fine sake, Toushiro for a light Chardonnay, and Rukia for tea. Ichigo poured them their drinks and measured out a few fingers of fine brandy for himself.

Plopping down on the loveseat next to Rukia, who nestled up against his side, Ichigo let out a contented sigh. "That's better," he said as he sipped the brandy. "The swill they call drinks during dinner doesn't even compare," he said.

Byakuya chuckled. He for one could certainly appreciate fine alcohol. "So," the noble said, taking a sip of his sake, "what did you want to talk to us about, Ichigo?" he asked, catching the attention of the other shinigami.

"Well, I don't really know how to put this lightly," Ichigo said. He took a deep breath. "A few days ago, I detected a certain reiatsu in the Great Hall, belonging to a student. A few days after that, I bumped into that student in the hallways between classes. Her name is Luna Lovegood, and she is a Third Year student. Additionally…" Ichigo took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal. "She is the reincarnated soul of Kira Izuru."

Momo and Hisagi seemed to stop breathing, and Byakuya, Toushiro, and Rukia were stunned as well, although they were not nearly as affected as Momo and Hisagi.

The room was silent as Ichigo watched his companions contemplate this development and what it meant. It was Momo who finally broke the silence.

"Can we see hi-her?" she asked, her voice soft. Despite being a hardened fighter, Momo was extremely loyal to her friends. The thought of seeing Kira, with whom she had attended the Academy, and had risen through the ranks of the Gotei 13, even if his soul had been reincarnated as a student, was an opportunity she couldn't resist.

Ichigo looked around and saw agreement written plainly on Hisagi's face. The scarred man had been close friends and comrades with Kira, and his death had hit the Ninth division vice-captain hard.

The other three captains had sympathetic looks on their faces. They all knew the pain of losing a comrade, some more so than others. Ichigo sighed and nodded. "Alright. Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to say yes, but when I spoke with Luna, she was showing signs of remembering Kira's memories. She addressed me as 'Kurosaki-taicho' and spoke in Japanese, although she didn't give any indication afterward that she even knew what she had done. We all know that it is against the law to actively help a reincarnated soul regain his or her previous memories, and I'm afraid that if she sees so many familiar people from Kira's life, she will regain his memories. The danger is that if she regains all those memories, she could go insane, overwhelmed by the sheer force of memories. So when you meet her, be careful. Don't say anything related to Kira, _especially_ his death."

Hisagi and Momo nodded earnestly. They couldn't wait to see this Luna girl, the reincarnation of their old friend. Ichigo couldn't help but smile as well. He had thoroughly enjoyed talking with the quiet young blonde, and Momo and Hisagi's eagerness was infectious.

He whistled, and an owl swooped down and landed on his shoulder through the open window. Whipping out a pen and a sheet of parchment, Ichigo scribbled something down quickly and rolled it up, handing it to the owl to clutch in its beak. "Take this to Luna Lovegood, could you?" he asked. The bird hooted in understanding and flapped its wings, swooping out the window.

The shinigami waited in anticipation. After a few minutes, there was a knocking at the door.

#

The silence reigning in the Great Hall was deafening. Everybody, teachers and students alike, sat stunned after witnessing the Minister of Magic's humiliation by Captain Kurosaki and his comrades. It was a long time before it was broken.

"Bloody hell…" whispered Ron finally, shocking everyone out of their reverie. Muted murmurs and whispers began echoing throughout the hall. Dumbledore coughed to regain attention, and gradually the hall fell silent again.

"That… interruption notwithstanding," the Headmaster said, his tone more serious now, "I believe it is time to introduce two of our judges for the Tri-wizard Tournament, in addition to the heads of the schools. Please join me in welcoming Mr. Ludovic Bagman and Mr. Bartemius Crouch of the Department of International Magical Cooperation!"

Thunderous applause rang out as students forgot the incident temporarily, their attention directed mostly to Ludovic "Ludo" Bagman, a former Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps. He was a heavily built man, although his years away from Quidditch had caused him to gain some weight, especially around his middle. He beamed and waved, bowing a few times to cheers and applause.

His counterpart, Bartemius "Barty" Crouch, on the other hand, was stiff and formal, giving only a nod before sitting down at the teacher's table. His small moustache was neatly trimmed and combed, and he dressed immaculately, with not a speck of dust on his formal robes.

Dumbledore held up his hand, and the applause finally died down. He continued, "And now, it's time for the casket to be brought out!" A massive, ornately carved and jeweled wooden chest was carried out and laid on a stand on the dais. With a flourish of Dumbledore's wand, the chest dissolved into the air, revealing a large, crudely-carved wooden goblet. If not for the blue flames, obviously magical, burning within the cup, the goblet would be utterly unremarkable except for its size.

"The Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore intoned solemnly. "The impartial judge for the Tri-wizard Tournament. Any student wishing to enter will put their name on a piece of parchment into the cup. On the night of the drawing, the Goblet shall determine which of the students from each school is most worthy of entering the Tri-wizard Tournament." Whispers broke out, and Dumbledore silenced them quickly. A note of amusement crept into his voice. "And for those who have thoughts of entering, despite not being of age," he said with a small smile, "I shall be drawing an Age Line myself around the Goblet. None under the age of seventeen shall be able to cross it."

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, catching Harry's attention as they all made their way across the hall to the doors. "Well, that should be fooled by an Ageing Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in the Goblet, you're laughing – it can't whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "We just haven't learnt enough…"

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Tri-wizard Cup filled his mind again. He wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen _did_ find a way to get over the Age Line…

"Blimey!" said Ron, elbowing Harry and jolting him out of his thoughts. "Look over there!" The redhead pointed a finger down the hallway, where an unfamiliar owl, was winging its way over the heads of the students. Many of them ducked as the massive owl, even larger than Draco Malfoy's Eagle Owl, fluttered to a halt, landing on the shoulder of a young blonde Ravenclaw.

Dropping a piece of parchment into the girl's hand, the owl flapped its massive wings, the drafts causing many students' hair to become disheveled, and took off again, soaring out an open window into the night sky.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched as the blonde read what was written on the parchment. A wide grin spread over her face, and she dropped the parchment, taking off in the opposite direction, pushing her way through the crowd. The whole event would have completely escaped the trio's notice if not for the owl's sheer size. Harry had never seen an owl that large before, not even in Diagon Alley. It clearly wasn't native to England. It was this mere fact that had Harry pushing his way through the crowd, bending to pick up the scrap of parchment.

"Dear Luna," he read out loud, Ron and Hermione listening, "please come to my chamber. It is located on the Second Floor, behind the painting of a desert and a stunted tree. My companions would like to meet you, and since you had expressed interest in meeting them, I decided it was a perfect time. If you could come as soon as possible, it would be most convenient. Sincerely, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Harry looked up at his two friends. "There's something up," he muttered. "I have a bad feeling about those Japanese wizards."

Ron nodded. "They're Death Eaters, I just know it!"

Hermione sighed, but didn't say anything. She had finally realized that there was simply no dissuading Ron from his wild theories.

"Let's follow her," Harry decided. "I have my invisibility cloak in my robes; we can get into Kurosaki's chamber completely hidden." The other two nodded, and Harry whipped out the cloak, draping it over themselves. Taking off, they followed the young blonde as she made her way towards Kurosaki's chamber, Hermione casting a silencing charm on their feet and mouths to stop the sound of their footsteps and breathing, which had given them away to the orange-haired Japanese wizard the first time they had tried sneaking up on him.

Following the Ravenclaw closely, they reached a large, door-sized painting on the Second Floor, as the letter from Captain Kurosaki had said. They watched as the Ravenclaw knocked on the painting and stood back, patiently waiting.

After a few seconds, the painting swung open, and the trio stepped inside behind the Ravenclaw, narrowly avoiding the door swinging shut behind them.

#

Next chapter is up now! Also, we broke 200 reviews last chapter! Thanks so much for your support, and I'll see you guys for the next chapter!


	13. Chapter 13

"Hello, Luna," said Ichigo warmly. Turning to his comrades, he introduced her. "Everyone, this is Luna Lovegood. We met in the hallways a few days ago, and we had quite a pleasant conversation."

Momo smiled. The blonde's reiatsu indeed was the same as Kira's. She also noticed that it was rather stronger than the rest of the wizards, almost unseated shinigami level. It was quite impressive, but it also had some implications, not to mention complications. But the Fifth division captain put that thought aside, turning her attention back to the young girl that was the reincarnation of her friend and companion.

Luna bowed politely. "Hello, everyone," she said with a smile. "I'm very glad that Captain Kurosaki permitted me to meet you all. I hope it was not too much of a bother."

Hisagi allowed himself a wry smile. Just like Kira had been, always polite and thinking of others. "It was not a problem," he said, and Luna blinked in mild surprise at his voice. Despite his scarred and tattooed appearance, the Ninth division vice-captain's voice was very warm and kind, as well as rather deep.

Ichigo smiled at their interaction. "Luna, these are my closest friends and companions in Japan. Here is Captain Hitsugaya Toushiro, Captain Hitsugaya Momo, Vice-Captain Hisagi Shuuhei, Captain Kuchiki Byakuya, and Captain Kuchiki Rukia, my wife."

Lune shook hands with each shinigami as they were introduced, smiling at the last one widely. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said. "Captain Kurosaki, that is, Ichigo, has told me a lot about his friends, especially you, Princess," she said. Bowing again, she continued, "It is truly an honor to be in the company of nobles such as you."

Rukia shot an amused glance at Ichigo before turning back to Luna. "So, my husband has told you a lot about me, eh?" she said. "What exactly did he say?"

"He had quite a lot to say about how much he loved you," Luna replied, causing Ichigo to flush bright red. "He also told me about the nickname you were given, the 'White Moon,' and I must say, it suits you quite well." The blonde indicated the pure white swords sheathed at the petite woman's waist and back.

Rukia laughed softly, smacking Ichigo upside the head playfully. "So he did," she said, prompting a startled yelp from the orange-haired captain. "So he did. He also told us quite a bit about you, Luna. It seems you've caught my husband's attention." She frowned jokingly. "Is that a good thing or not?"

Ichigo laughed at Luna's nervousness. "Relax, Luna," he reassured her. "She's only joking. It's definitely a good thing."

"What was it that caught your attention then?" Luna asked.

All the shinigami, who had facial expressions of amusement or laughter, instantly sobered. Ichigo was the one who broke the awkward silence. "You have… abilities, Luna," he said. It was best not to lie, but now he had the challenge of _not_ lying while at the same time not revealing too much information that might spark a sudden memory recall. "Abilities that are greater than your fellow wizards and witches. Abilities that are similar to our own."

"It's called _kidou,_" Momo continued, picking up where Ichigo left off. "It's different from regular wizarding magic in that wizards draw power from their magical cores, focusing them through their wands." It wasn't a lie: what the wizards called a magical core, the root of their power, was actually their latent reiatsu. "In kidou, we manifest our magical cores, which we call _reiatsu_, and, using our pure intent, shape the power to form the various spells."

Luna's eyes widened. "So my suspicions were true!"

The shinigami's eyes widened as well, though for different reasons. "What… what do you mean by 'suspicions'?" Momo stuttered, trying desperately to hide her alarm. If Luna knew about kidou, then any further information could very possibly trigger a recall.

The blonde was about to speak, but suddenly clutched her head in agony.

"Luna?" asked Ichigo, worry coloring his tone. "What's wrong?"

The pain got worse, and Luna's breath came in ragged, short gasps. She felt agony lance through her head, each spike accompanied by a sudden image: a silver-haired man, smiling sinisterly; a large-chested woman swigging from a ceramic bottle; a girl with brown hair tied in pigtails and a boy with vibrant red hair and tattoos grinning at her; a large creature with far too many legs to be normal grinning down at her madly. "I… I don't… what is this…?" Her wide gray eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she collapsed in a heap.

"Luna!" As one, the shinigami ran to her side, Ichigo lifting her arm to check her pulse at her wrist. He looked up grimly.

"This is what I was afraid would happen. I didn't know the extent of the memory recall, but it seems to be further along than I had expected. There wasn't enough that we said that could have triggered a recall. This isn't normal." He took the unconscious blonde in his arms and laid her down gently on the couch.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Momo worriedly, while the others looked on in concern. "Healing kidou, anything? Maybe we can call Unohana-taicho?"

"Calm down, Momo," Ichigo said soothingly, although he still looked serious. His golden eyes flashed with worry. "With luck, she won't go into complete recall. But if she does, we can only pray for her mental stability." He sighed heavily, running a hand through his orange hair. "This is my fault. I should have stuck to protocol. I knew that she was showing signs of recall, but I still let you guys see her." His head whipped up to stare around at the gathered shinigami, who were beginning to look worried at his behavior. "But I couldn't deny you this chance! You lost Kira already, and now you had a chance to see Luna…" His hands clenched into fists, and white began seeping into his orange hair. Black began flooding his sclera, while the gold in his pupils brightened, glowing in the flickering light of the fireplace.

"I… this is my fault…" he said, voice tinged with anger and anguish and frustration. "I knew the risks for Luna, and it would have been best for her if she didn't meet you. But what about you, Momo? And you, Hisagi? How could I have denied your request? How… there was no right choice… I picked one, and now we might lose her _again_! Even after promising, I still can't protect people…" A tear streamed down his cheek as he thought of that fateful mission fifty years ago. "Kira…"

_SMACK!_ "Snap out of it, Ichigo!" demanded his diminutive wife, who still managed to intimidate and beat the snot out of the orange-haired captain. "You sulking over what happened fifty years ago isn't going to help! What's done is done. And you couldn't possibly have made a better choice. You said it yourself, didn't you? This isn't a normal occurrence. You couldn't have foreseen this happening! So stop blaming yourself and pull yourself together!"

The other shinigami sighed in relief as the white began fading from his hair, his sclera reverting to its usual white. They knew the damage Ichigo could do with his hollow reiatsu when he got worked up, and they could only thank Rukia's quick thinking for bringing him back to his senses.

Ichigo coughed, rubbing his cheek, which was an angry red from Rukia's slap. "Sorry, guys," he said shamefacedly. "I still can't help but get pissed at myself when I think about that incident. I guess it's my fatal flaw, huh? Bring up my failure to protect someone I love, and I'll just break down and lose control."

"You need to stop blaming yourself for these things, Ichigo," said Byakuya. "Kira's death wasn't your fault. You didn't know that Yammy was the Cero Espada. Even Gin didn't know."

Ichigo breathed out slowly and was silent for a while. "I guess you're right," he said finally. Looking over at Luna's prone form lying on the couch, he turned back to the group of shinigami. "There are other important matters to discuss. Lord Voldemort is not dead, and he is trying to return to a functioning body. As it were, he will most likely target Potter, since supposedly Potter was the one who killed him fifteen years ago. Because of this, we need Potter alive."

Before he could continue, though, Toushiro held up a hand, silencing him. "I sense unidentified reiatsu. Someone's listening."

Ichigo stiffened as he too reached out with his senses, encountering three familiar reiatsus. He cursed silently under his breath. "I can't believe I'm so negligent that I didn't even check."

Rukia placed a hand placatingly on his arm. "We were all worried about Luna, Ichigo. It wasn't your fault, it was all of ours'."

Ichigo nodded grimly. He snapped his finger, and the portrait-door was sealed off with a thud, a glass-like barrier appearing over the only entrance, and exit, to his chambers. Rising from his seat on the couch, he faced the doorway and spoke, apparently to thin air. "Was getting caught once not enough to teach you a lesson, Potter? Eavesdropping isn't a polite thing to do, you know."

There was no response, not that Ichigo had expected one. The other shinigami remained seated, though. He could handle this himself. He vanished in an instant, and when he reappeared in a flurry of black, the shinigami found themselves with company.

Ichigo dropped the silvery invisibility cloak onto the ground, next to the three students, who were now staring horrorstruck, their cover having been blown once again. Turning the full force of his glare at the three, Ichigo said slowly, "What do you think you three are doing here?"

"P-please, sir," said Granger, fear written clearly across her face. "W-w-we just w-wanted to f-find out what you wanted with L-Luna, sir. We didn't mean to e-eavesdrop."

Ichigo scoffed. "Oh, please. Don't give me your pathetic excuses. You wanted to find out more about me, didn't you? Wait, don't tell me. You're still laboring under the delusion that I'm a Death Eater."

The red-headed Weasley blurted out, "But you just basically admitted it yourself! You said that Lord V- You Know Who was coming back, and that he needs Harry alive! You're here to capture Harry, aren't you? Death Eater scum!"

Ichigo rolled his golden eyes. Apparently Weasley was so fixated on the idea that he was a Death Eater that he had completely forgotten about the five other captain-level shinigami in the room, who had a mere half hour ago faced down the Minister of Magic and a full contingent of Aurors, and sent them with their tails between their legs back to wherever they came from. Fool.

"Even if I were a Death Eater, there's nothing you can do about it," he said condescendingly. "If the Minister of Magic couldn't, what could you, a mere student, hope to achieve?"

"We'll tell Dumbledore!" burst out Harry, finally overcoming his shock to speak. "Even if you can't get arrested, he could still have you evicted from the school."

Ichigo threw his head back and laughed. "Dumbledore!" he scoffed. "The old man trusts me! I am, after all, a respectable government representative from magical Japan. Whose word do you think he'll believe, yours or mine?"

Before any of the trio could respond, Ichigo snapped his fingers again, unsealing the door, which swung open slowly. He turned his back on the trio, gesturing towards the open portal. "Go. Get out of my sight. And the next time I find any of you eavesdropping on _top secret_ meetings, or trespassing, you won't be unpunished, I assure you of that. I am going easy on you today because I have much more important things to attend to than a few meddling students.

"If you aren't a Death Eater, then prove it! Show us your left arm!" shouted Weasley defiantly, even as Potter and Granger hastily tugged him towards the door.

A whistling cut the air, and Weasley squeaked in surprise as a sleek black dagger embedded itself in the wall beside him, the blade cutting through the stone of the wall like it were nothing more than butter. "I don't have to prove anything to you, child. Now get out before I change my mind."

The door slammed shut as Potter and Granger finally pulled the now-pale Weasley out of the room, leaving Ichigo and the other shinigami alone. Ichigo stared angrily at the now-closed door and muttered, "Damn interfering students, can't keep their noses out of other peoples' business…"

A sudden shifting sound caught their attention, and the shinigami turned as one to the couch, where the unconscious Luna was lying.

She shifted and groaned. "What… what happened?" Blinking open her eyes, the blonde looked groggily around. Momo and Hisagi gasped aloud and the others gaped in shock. The once-gray eyes of the young blonde were now a familiar, piercing blue.

#

Phew! Man, this chapter took so long to write! I feel like I made a mistake in the last chapter by involving Luna so quickly, but I don't like changing things after I've already published them. So this is my attempt to fix my perceived mistakes, which may not be mistakes at all. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it.

Also, for those of you who read _When Genius Meets Death_, I find that I'm a bit at an impasse with that story. Somehow, I just can't bring myself to write the next bit. Hopefully I'll be able to post the next chapter soon, but no guarantees. Don't worry, it's not on hiatus!

Also, I just completely rewatched both seasons of the anime _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_. Holy crap. I can honestly say that it is the BEST anime I've ever watched (not including Bleach since I don't really watch the Bleach anime). Even after a second time, it still managed to make me cry like a baby at the end (my sister can attest to that), and there isn't much in the world that can make me cry like that. Definitely my favorite anime ever, I _highly _recommend it to all of you.

Thanks for reading this chapter, and I'll see you next time for the selection of champions!

~fokker333


	14. Chapter 14

"Do you think that was wise, Ichigo?" asked Rukia as they watched the portrait door swing slowly shut behind the young blonde student, her body posture indicating fatigue and mild shock.

Ichigo shook his head tiredly. "No. No, it definitely wasn't. But she was already recovering Kira's memories. Once the process starts, there's no reversing it. It was better for her to go through the recall with us there to comfort and assist her than by herself." He sighed. "I'm happy though. Luna's strong. She has a very sharp mind, and thankfully it was able to take the shock of the recall without driving her insane."

Momo bit her lip worriedly. "This changes everything though, doesn't it, Ichigo?" she asked. "How is it going to complicate your mission here? You have to kill Riddle, so what if Ki- er, Luna tries to help you? Surely some of that loyalty is going to show through now?"

The shinigami's expression was grave. "If I need help, I'll call for backup. But the bigger problem is those three kids. It was careless of us not to check for reiatsu when Luna came in. As high-ranking officers of the Gotei 13 we cannot afford to be so sloppy, even if we are guarding against children. When I am most worried about is what those three could possibly have heard. The wizards think that we're all in our early twenties or thirties, and if they heard us mentioning the incident fifty years ago as if we had been there, which we were of course, it could arouse all sorts of suspicion. I was already toeing the line when I invoked my diplomatic immunity to face down that idiot Fudge. Pulling a stunt like that again isn't going to work, and if the Ministry contacts the Japanese magical government about me with suspicions and the government thinks to check their records, they'll find that before my appearance and 'suggestion' to be sent as an envoy to Britain, they have no information on me whatsoever. I'm only authorized to use force against the Death Eaters, not against other wizards. It could seriously jeopardize the mission."

Toushiro smirked. "First mission in a couple decades and it's already messing up?" he teased, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

The orange-haired captain snorted. "Shut up," he said with a small grin. "Anyways, until Riddle returns to a body, I think the mission parameters have to be changed a bit. Since Potter is likely Riddle's number one target, and I want to keep as many innocents safe as possible, the primary objective is going to be to protect Potter."

"Potter?" asked Byakuya smoothly, arching a thin eyebrow elegantly. "He was one of the eavesdroppers, correct?"

Ichigo nodded. "That's right. So just because I'm trying to protect him it's not like I'm just gonna tolerate him being a nosy brat."

Toushiro looked serious. "Ichigo, be careful with this. If he does get hurt, don't shut down on us, especially if Riddle is there. Even if you're protecting Potter, the main objective is still to kill Riddle. Make sure you get that done."

There was a pregnant pause as the shingami undoubtedly recalled Ichigo's greatest weakness. His guilt when he failed to protect a subordinate, or worse, bystander was so great that at times he would completely shut down and drown in angst. In such a vital mission, which was basically an assassination, that sort of shutdown was unacceptable.

"But no pressure," remarked Rukia in a light tone, trying to ease the tension. It worked. The others chuckled at this. Ichigo grinned also, his stress at all the recent events beginning to evaporate with the help of his friends. He was still the youngest and most inexperienced of the captains of the Gotei 13, despite his being so powerful.

"Meanwhile," Ichigo said, "I'll keep an eye on Luna. We don't know what sort of effects undergoing a total recall could have on her mind. I'll send a Hell Butterfly to Urahara and consult him on that, but I'm pretty sure this is a first-time scenario."

He stretched, popping his joints loudly. "Ugh, I'm so tired. I didn't know being on a mission could be so damn stressful."

Rukia smirked, slapping him lightly. "Come on, Ichigo," she said. "What happened to all your _stamina_?"

Ichigo smirked right back. "My stamina's perfectly fine. Care for me to prove that?"

Toushiro rolled his eyes at the glaringly obvious innuendo, while Momo blushed a bright red and Byakuya looked mildly repulsed at the idea.

Hisagi coughed. "We will be returning to watch these… tasks for the tournament?" he inquired.

Byakuya nodded in confirmation. "We shall remain in the world of the living for another day, to maintain pretenses as Ichigo's companions from the magical government of Japan, and then return to Soul Society. Ichigo will let us know when the first task begins, and we shall come to observe it."

"The tournament is judged by Ministry representatives, along with the headmasters of the attending schools," Ichigo said. "Your presence could be explained as possible interest in magical Japan taking part in the tournament. Your role would be viewed by the wizards as those similar to Karkaroff, the Durmstrang headmaster, or Madame Maxime, from Beauxbatons, albeit without the judging."

Hisagi nodded, and while he was still concerned about Kira- no, Luna, he reminded himself, -he trusted Ichigo as a captain of the Gotei 13 to take care of her. He knew that Ichigo now saw the blonde as one of his subordinates, just as he had fifty years ago in Hueco Mundo, and would protect her accordingly.

"What are you going to do about Potter and the other two?" asked Momo. "We don't know what they heard while they were listening in on us. I'm certain they heard the last bit about Riddle needing him alive. The way you phrased it, his suspicions of you being a Death Eater are going to be even stronger now. Worse would be if he heard us referencing the Aizen incident fifty years ago. They all think that we're no older than our thirties, like you said. They're going to wonder and ask questions about it."

Ichigo ran a hand through his air agitatedly his shoulders tensed until Rukia laid her hands on them, rubbing them soothingly. He relaxed his muscles, allowing his wife to massage his shoulders. "I'll just tell them that it's government business. The way we speak of the event, as though we were there, could be explained as the use of a Pensieve to view memories."

Toushiro stood up, dusting off his haori casually, although there was nary a speck of dust anywhere on it. "Very well. We shall return to Soul Society after dinner tomorrow night, after the champions have been announced." He turned to Ichigo. "I trust you have prepared sufficient sleeping arrangements for us?"

Ichigo drawled, "Come now, Toushiro. Have I ever _not_ been prepared?" He winced at the smack Rukia delivered to his head. "Alright, alright, I get it!" he said hastily, not wanting Rukia to bring up every moment in his life where he had gotten caught off guard. "There are smaller chambers branching off from this common area. It seems that the magic of the school created them out of necessity. I would like to investigate further, as it seems magic is more than simply channeling reiatsu through the wands…." He shook his head. "Anyways, though I don't mind the two of you sharing a bed," he said, mock glaring at Toushiro and Momo, "just don't get too loud, alright?" The two flushed a bright red, with Toushiro spluttering slightly in indignation.

"Speak for yourself!" the white-haired captain retorted, and Byakuya visibly winced at the thought. Despite him approving of the marriage, it was still uncomfortable to think of his sister and Ichigo… He shuddered again.

Ichigo stood and clapped his hands. "Alright. It's been a long day, and I would like to get some sleep before whatever shit happens next. Goodnight, everyone." He walked towards the largest adjoining bedroom, with Rukia hurrying behind him. The door shut with a soft thud, and the other shinigami also departed to their own rooms, leaving a deserted fireplace crackling softly.

#

"Now that we are all full, it is now time to select the Tri-wizard Champions!" The Great Hall burst into thunderous applause, and Ichigo and the shinigami dutifully clapped along. The dais was cleared and the Goblet of Fire was set on its pedestal. The students waited with bated breath as the blue flames flared a bright orange, its flickering tongues of magical fire casting shadows upon the aged Headmaster's bearded face. With a roar and a small explosion of flame, a slightly charred piece of parchment was spat out of the wooden cup.

Dumbledore's hand shot out with a quickness that surprised even the shinigami, snatching the parchment out of midair like a frog catching a fly. Ichigo suppressed a snort at the thought of the Headmaster's face on a small green frog sitting on a lilypad, his beard trailing in the water.

"The champion for Durmstrang," Dumbledore read, his voice easily audible in the completely silent hall, "is Viktor Krum!"

The students exploded into applause, and Ichigo raised an eyebrow. From what he could hear of the uproar, the Norwegian champion was an international Quidditch star. Realization struck him after closely examining the stocky young man from afar. He was the Quidditch player at the World Cup, the Romanian one who had pulled a beautiful Wron-something feint. Ichigo was impressed. To think that a person who could pull off a perfectly-timed move like that was still in school… Ichigo applauded along with the crowd. This would certainly be an interesting tournament.

The Goblet flared again, the flames leaping towards the ceiling as it shot forth another piece of burnt parchment. The hall fell silent again as the students waited in anticipation. "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

Ichigo again raised his eyebrows in interest and curiosity as he observed the reactions of the students. He noticed that the applause from the male population was rather enthusiastic, while the females looked less than pleased. Ichigo reached out with his senses, probing the champion's reiatsu. He frowned. The girl's reiatsu had a strange allure to it, almost seductive. He shuddered slightly as he eyed Rukia out of the corner of his eyes. Ichigo definitely didn't want to get on his wife's bad side if she found him affected by the seductive reiatsu. Not that he could, considering his own massive reiatsu.

The hall grew silent once again as the Goblet flared for a third time. Ichigo noticed with some amusement and some contempt that many students were throwing at the other house tables. He rolled his eyes. Stupid inter-house rivalries.

The piece of parchment fluttered slowly into Dumbledore's hand. Holding it up, the old headmaster coughed to clear his throat. The tension in the air thickened drastically, and Ichigo noticed with some intrigue that the thickness was caused by the wizards unconsciously raising their slightly-higher-than-normal reiatsu. It wasn't powerful enough to visibly manifest, like Ichigo's did when he flared his, but it was still enough to cause a noticeable change in the atmosphere.

"The champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"

Pandemonium broke loose. The Hufflepuff table erupted into cheers, leaping to their feet as they cheered on their champion. Ichigo was disgusted at the dirty looks the other houses were shooting the nondescript-looking young man walking up to the teacher's dais. He sighed but said nothing. This silly rivalry was far too deeply ingrained in these wizards' culture that there was almost nothing he could do to fix the problem. It was a good thing Ichigo's mission was to kill Riddle, since if they were divided so much the wizards hardly stood a chance to do so themselves.

"Congratulations to you, champions of the Tri-wizard Tournament!" Dumbledore announced, his arms spread wide to gesture to the three champions standing on the dais. "And now, if you, along with your teachers, follow Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman to the adjoining room, you will receive your instructions there."

As the door shut behind the champions, Ichigo felt a flare of reiatsu. Turning in surprise, he beheld the Goblet of Fire's flickering blue flames again flare a bright orange, spewing forth yet another singed piece of parchment.

"I take it this wasn't supposed to happen?" muttered Toushiro softly, so softly that only the shinigami with their heightened senses could hear him. Ichigo nodded minutely, his eyes fixed upon the Headmaster, who unfolded the piece of parchment.

"Harry Potter!"

Muted whispers broke out from the crowd. Clearly, they hadn't expected this to happen. Judging by his shocked reiatsu, neither did Potter. Ichigo cursed under his breath. "_||Shit… This makes my job harder. This entire affair reeks of conspiracy. I can't directly help him during the tasks, since that's illegal, so the only thing I can do is give him advice. I sensed several individuals with rather dark reiatsu. If any of them are agents of Riddle, this could be that bastard's plan to kill Potter…||_" He rubbed his forehead. "_||Fuck…||_"

"_||Is there any way to keep Potter from participating in the tournament?||_" inquired Byakuya, a small frown on his face. "_||Was there not an age limit for participants? If that is the case, then Potter is clearly underage and thus illegally entered. Is this not grounds for the officials to prevent Potter from participating?||_"

"_||Unfortunately, the Goblet of Fire ensures a binding magical contract with the students it chooses to be champions. If they try to not take part in the tournament, I believe it invokes their own magic and destroys them.||_"

"_||WHAT?||_" Burst out Momo, drawing a few curious glances from the teachers and students for her sudden shout. "_||Who in their right minds would think of a rule like that? They're endangering the lives of children, for kami's sake!||_"

"_||Who knows what goes on in these wizards' minds…||_" sighed Ichigo, running a hand through his orange hair. "_||Dammit…||_"

#

Here's the next chapter! I want to thank **light soceress **for her (his?) amazingly constructive review. In response: Yes, I noticed that Ichigo was quickly becoming a Gary Stu, and in my last few chapters I have been working towards fixing that. Another author (I don't remember who) said that if you're going change a character, you have to change the others as well to compensate for their increased strength. Believe me when I say that Ichigo has quite a few flaws that are rather detrimental to his character, they just haven't had a chance to really make their appearance just yet. I do plan to show to the wizards, as well as you readers, that Ichigo is not a flawless character. He does have his problems, he is not a god (although he killed a wannabe-god), and is still human (albeit a dead one, and part hollow). Also, thank you for pointing out about the characterization. It's been a while since I went back and reread/watched the books/manga/anime, so you may be right about that. Since I have a long weekend and some spare time, I will try to familiarize myself again with the small nuances of the characters, and continue to write accordingly. Finally, apparently, according my English teachers, my descriptive writing is quite good, and I plan to write the tasks of the tournament _very_ descriptively. I'll just say that they may take more than one chapter, and leave it at that. Don't worry, you weren't too mean with your review, and I really appreciate your advice.

Finally, I sometimes wonder how many of my reviewers actually bother to take the time and read these author's notes at the end. So I want to do a little experiment. In your review, if you in fact did read this author's note, to satisfy my own curiosity, please leave a small comment, something along the lines of 'I read the author's note' or something like that. If you don't want to, you don't have to. I was just curious.

Also, in case you didn't realize, "_||When a character speaks like this, they're speaking in Japanese.||_"

Anyways, thanks for reading, and happy Labo(u)r Day!

~fokker333


	15. Chapter 15

Harry scowled as he stormed down the hallways, making his way up to Gryffindor Tower. After being called into the office by Dumbledore and facing down the other foreign envoys questioning his honesty, his mood was not the best.

_Why don't they get it?_ He thought angrily, instinctively curling his fist. _I didn't put my name in that stinking Goblet!_

"Potter!"

His simmering pot of resentment was interrupted at the shout of his name from down the hallway. Harry turned unenthusiastically only to recoil in shock when he saw who it was that had called for him.

"What do you want?" he all but snarled at the Japanese envoy, Captain Kurosaki. As if his day weren't bad enough, now _another_ foreigner was meddling in his affairs. "I suppose you want to interrogate me about that whole Goblet business? Well I got news for you, _I didn't do it_."

"Whoa, whoa," Kurosaki said, holding his hands up placatingly. "I didn't say anything yet."

"You're no different from the rest of them," Harry said, frustrated. "Nobody ever believes me." His patience had been stressed enough by the events in the past few days, starting with the distressing things he had heard in Kurosaki's chambers, and he just snapped. "Ever since I came to Hogwarts, ever since I was _born_, my existence has stood out. Just because my parents were killed by Voldemort… are people seriously dumb enough to think that I wanted that?" Harry's voice rose in volume until he was practically spitting into Kurosaki's face, fury making him forget any semblance of courtesy. The Japanese man's face was stone cold. "I don't know why this happened to me, I don't want this to have happened to me, yet no one cares to listen!" Hands reaching up to grip untidy black hair, Harry began pacing back and forth. "I thought things would change this year, now that Sirius was free, and I even thought I could go live with him!" He gave a bitter laugh. "How stupid is that? Instead, everything took a turn for the worse, and now I'm stuck in some stupid Tournament I would have been content with sitting out on!" His hands dropped to swing limply by his sides, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "All I wanted was one normal year… to be a regular kid… is that too much to ask?"

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and Harry looked up in surprise to see Captain Kurosaki with an uncharacteristically soft look on his face, his golden eyes warming to a soft amber hue. "I know how it feels," the envoy murmured softly, his eyes distant as he remembered things far in the past. "I was dragged into certain… things unwillingly as well. But as time progressed, I came to realize that these were things that I had to do. When I was only nine years old, my mother died. She was the kindest person I ever knew, and she was murdered right in front of my eyes. I had never felt more helpless and lost. It was then that I made myself a promise. My name means 'number one protector.' I swore to live up to the name that my mother gave me. I decided that no matter what I would do, my purpose in life would be to protect everyone I could. At first, I wanted to become a doctor, to save lives. But then, I was dragged into a giant mess." Ichigo had completely zoned out now as he reminisced of the past to a shocked Harry. "Some time ago, the Gotei 13 was involved in a war. There were three captains who turned traitor. Their leader, Sousuke Aizen, wanted to transcend godhood and was determined to destroy us. I wasn't even involved until then. And all of a sudden, due to certain circumstances, I was the only one who could defeat the traitor. At first, I didn't want to do it. But when that bastard threatened to harm my family, my friends, the people I loved, I steeled myself to the task. It was an impossibly difficult thing to do. We… we lost a lot of people. I lost a lot of subordinates- no, friends… But in the end, we prevailed. I killed Aizen." He snapped out of his reverie. "So, despite everything that happens, ask yourself, Potter. What is your goal? Mine was to protect, and so I fell to everything I had to do without hesitation. What's your motivation? When you find that motivation… never give up, no matter what happens."

Kurosaki dropped his hand from Harry's shoulder, turning on his heel and walking away. Harry could only stare at the retreating back of the black-clad Japanese envoy, trying to contemplate everything that he had just heard. He touched the spot on his shoulder where Kurosaki's comforting hand had rested. "Never give up…" he echoed softly. "Heh," he said, a small smile appearing on his face. "I guess he's right."

Ichigo smiled as he walked away, leaving Potter standing in the middle of a deserted hallway. The kid was under a lot of stress, something that Ichigo truly could empathize with. He could tell by the feel of Potter's reiatsu that he was beginning to feel better. Ichigo also knew that he himself was warming up. His interactions with his companions, who had left the previous day after the choosing of the champions, had left him less cold and more open. He had discovered that since the merging of his soul with his inner hollow that being with friends would cause the shinigami side, the nice side, to be dominant. It was a good thing, he mused, since protecting Potter would be a lot easier if the kid trusted him. "You're an interesting kid," he muttered to himself.

#

Ichigo frowned as he felt the reiatsu of a younger student approach the Potions classroom. Peering through the inky smoke rising from the many cauldrons, he watched as the heavy door creaked open, revealing a short third-year, panting breathlessly. After exchanging a few word with Snape, Potter gathered up his materials and followed the third-year out, much to Snape's displeasure. Ichigo stood as well and walked towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Snape sourly, rather annoyed by Potter's departure, apparently. "I was under the impression that you were observing the class? For what reason are you leaving early?"

"I'm following Potter," Ichigo replied simply. "I am required, by order of my superiors, to be present at all events related to the Tri-wizard Tournament." It wasn't exactly true, as Yamamoto hadn't specifically ordered him to do so, but nobody would find out anyways. "Forgive me for leaving the class, but I really have to go now." He bowed slightly to Snape and left the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

Following Potter's reiatsu, Ichigo climbed a set of stairs and entered a larger room. In addition to the judges and Headmasters from each school, there was also a rather old man, a woman dressed in lurid green robes that hurt Ichigo's eyes and sucking on the tip of a quill, and a photographer. He groaned inwardly. He hated reporters, and he got a feeling that this woman staring at the champions, Potter in particular, would be no better. If anything, she would be worse than any of the reporters he had ever met in his life.

Ichigo carefully observed the Wand Weighing ceremony, reaching out with his senses to feel the reiatsu reaction for each spell that the old man, Ollivander, performed with each of the champions' wands. He quirked an eyebrow. Apparently, magic wasn't simply focusing reiatsu through a medium. Although many of the curses were similar to kidou spells due to their intent to cause harm, many charms and other spells seemed to be performed differently. He made a mental note to research further into this matter.

He winced as the green-clad reporter's high voice pierced his eardrums. Apparently, they wanted photos for the newspaper. Ichigo frowned. It was clear from her behavior that she didn't really care about the other three champions, just Potter. From what he heard, the reporter's name was Rita Skeeter. His frown deepened. According to what he had heard from Arthur Weasley after the World Cup fiasco, Skeeter was the type of reporter to blow things completely out of proportion just to gain popularity. Having read the article she wrote about the World Cup incident, Ichigo was inclined to agree

He cursed under his breath as the Skeeter woman dragged Potter out of the room, no doubt to some secluded spot so she could get an interview from him, and probably to twist the kid's words completely, probably with the intent to slander the kid as much as she could. He stood up and followed the feel of the pair's reiatsu.

#

Harry frowned at the acid-green Quick-Quotes Quill that was scribbling across the piece of parchment. "Oy," he said loudly. "My eyes aren't glistening with the ghosts of my past!" Before the annoying reporter could say anything else, the door to the cramped broom closet opened, revealing the tall figure of Captain Kurosaki. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Kurosaki frowned at the reporter, who was looking at him with interest. "I hardly think that a broom closet is an optimal place for an interview," he said, an eyebrow raised. "Also, I'm fairly certain Potter never gave you implicit permission to interview him. By law, unless he gives you permission, none of what you have written there," he gestured at the parchment on which the Quick-Quotes Quill was still furiously scribbling, "is allowed to be published."

Skeeter smiled widely. "Whatever you say," she said, her sugar-sweet voice causing Harry to wince. "And you must be the Japanese envoy that everyone's been talking about! I must say, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mister…?"

"Kurosaki," the Japanese envoy answered stiffly. "Ichigo Kurosaki." He inclined his head stiffly, and Harry could tell that the envoy liked the woman before him even less than he did. "I believe that, since the Wand Weighing ceremony is finished, Potter should be returning to class."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Skeeter replied airily. "I'm sure his teachers could spare some time for a front page interview in the Daily Prophet, don't you?"

Kurosaki frowned, and Harry resisted the urge to shudder at the annoyed expression that flashed across his face. "Anyways," Skeeter continued. "how about an interview from you? I'm sure the Prophet's readers would be absolutely _ecstatic_ to read about you, especially after that stunt you pulled at the World Cup." The Quill was still skating across the parchment despite the Japanese envoy not saying anything. "Or your confrontation with the Minister of Magic and his personal Auror squad," here the Quill's scribbling became more and more furious. Suddenly Harry felt a sense of foreboding, as if something very bad was about to happen… "or perhaps how you invited a young student, a _girl_ no less, into your _personal _chambers a few days ago?" A malicious smile had etched itself across the reporter's face, and the bright green quill's scribbling ground to a sudden halt.

Harry took a shaky step back at the look that crossed Kurosaki's face. He shivered at the glowing golden eyes and the expression of absolute fury, memories that he would rather not remember resurfacing at the face of unadulterated rage. "How," Kurosaki hissed, his voice low and threatening, "did you hear about that?"

"I have my sources," Skeeter said sweetly, winking. "Anyways, I got quite the nice bit of information from that lovely… interview. I'm sure the next addition of the Prophet will sell quite well, especially considering the front page headline. Look out for it," she said with another evil smile. "You'll know it when you see it."

"Watch yourself, woman," Kurosaki said, his voice and expression ice-cold. "You don't know what you're meddling with."

"Ah, but I'm a reporter," said Skeeter slyly. "It's my _job_ to meddle in things that I don't know, am I right?"

"Whether you take my advice or not is up to you," Kurosaki responded. "But I would appreciate it also if you didn't twist other peoples' words to say a completely different thing than they originally meant." The air suddenly grew heavy, and Harry gasped for breath as sweat trickled down his face. The Quick-Quotes Quill burst into flame, inciting a small and angry squeal from Skeeter as its charred remnants floated to the ground and broke into ash. The pressure let up, and Skeeter hurriedly made her escape, pushing past Kurosaki's imposing form.

"I hate reporters," grumbled Kurosaki. Reaching down with a large and calloused hand, he helped Harry up from the bucket inside the broom closet that he was still sitting in. "Are you alright, Potter?"

"Y-yeah," Harry said shakily. "What was that? The heaviness in the air, I mean? And how did the quill just suddenly catch fire like that?'

Kurosaki threw him a small smirk. "Just a little something I picked up from my time in the Gotei 13," he said conspiratorially. The frown returned quickly. "That Skeeter woman is going to cause a lot of trouble," he said.

Harry couldn't help but agree. "How did she know?" he asked. "About Luna, that is. She couldn't have been there, and I swear none of us told!"

The frown deepened. "I don't know," Kurosaki admitted, "but I have to extra careful now. I am privy to a lot of top-secret government information. If that Skeeter woman pokes her nose too far, I can guarantee that the results won't be… pretty."

#

_Suspicious Activity at Hogwarts! The Actions of the Hero of the Quidditch World Cup Revealed!_

Many of our readers may remember the incident that occurred at the Quidditch World Cup, during which a mysterious stranger single-handedly faced down and detained over a dozen suspected Death Eaters. After disappearing without a trace, this mysterious man was hailed a hero by many for his heroic actions. But finally he has resurfaced, revealing his identity as Captain Ichigo Kurosaki, special envoy of the magical government of Japan. But is he truly the hero that everyone believes him to be?

It seems that ever since Kurosaki's arrival at the famed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, supposedly to observe the Tri-wizard Tournament on the behalf of the magical government of Japan, his actions have aroused much suspicion among the student population at Hogwarts.

"He's a freaky git," says an unnamed member of Gryffindor House. "He dresses all in black all the time and threatens students with weapons! I think he might even be a Death Eater."

"I've never seen him use magic before," said another student, who wished to remain anonymous. "And he carries muggle weapons too. I don't think he's even a wizard."

These observations bring to light many questions about Kurosaki. Is he really who he claims he is? All attempts to contact magical Japan has returned fruitless, as they continue their policy of complete isolation, so there is no way to prove Kurosaki's affiliation with Japan.

Additionally, this reporter observed, a few days ago Kurosaki was seen inviting a young third-year Ravenclaw into his personal chambers. What went on inside is unknown, but this reporter can testify that after a few hours, the student was seen leaving Kurosaki's chambers with a shocked, even traumatized, look upon her face. The student, who is none other than Luna Lovegood, daughter of the editor of the _Quibbler_ monthly, has refused to be interviewed.

All these things beg this question: who is Ichigo Kurosaki? Is he really who he claims he is, an ambassador of the magical government of Japan? Or is he something much more sinister than that: a child predator? If this is the case, then this reporter shudders at the thought of what he could do in a school full of children. Or, could he perhaps be, as some students suspect, a Death Eater with a malicious agenda? All these questions remain to be answered, but when they are, what will Albus Dumbledore do to protect his school from this suspicious character?

_Special Correspondent, Rita Skeeter_

#

Well, looks like things are beginning to heat up, huh? To recap: Luna has recovered the memories of Izuru Kira, of whom she is the reincarnation, Harry has been chosen as the unprecedented fourth Tri-wizard Champion, perhaps he and our favorite orange-haired strawberry have more in common than he first believed, and Rita Skeeter is meddling in things she shouldn't be.

Additionally, here are the results of last chapter's survey. Out of 29 total reviewers, 21 of them read my author's note, for those of you who were interested in the results of that little experiment.

Thanks for reading, drop a review if you liked it, and as always, constructive criticism is not only welcome, but also appreciated. Until next chapter!

~fokker333


	16. Chapter 16

Ichigo noticed as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast that a great many students were shooting him rather dirty looks, eyeing him with suspicion, distrust, and maybe even a little fear. He also noticed that many of the students were huddled around copies of a newspaper. A growing sense of dread and foreboding permeated his body, swelling through him like wasp venom. "Skeeter," he hissed under his breath. Still, he had to stay calm. There was no telling how many sources the meddling reporter had within Hogwarts. Ichigo knew human nature. The woman and her cronies would just love for him to give a reaction. They would undoubtedly twist any reaction he gave into a confirmation of their accusations, and Ichigo would have no choice but to abandon the mission. Diplomatic immunity or not, if the Japanese government got involved the mission would be screwed.

Sitting down at the teacher's table as usual, Ichigo pointedly ignored the looks even some of the teachers, especially Karkaroff and Maxime, were giving him, although he noted that Dumbledore looked as merry as ever. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table and noticed that Potter and Weasley weren't sitting together. In fact, the two were pointedly ignoring each other, with Granger glancing worriedly between them. Ichigo raised an eyebrow in interest. It seemed that the two friends had had a falling out. If he had to hazard a guess, Ichigo would bet that the conflict between the two stemmed from Potter's being chosen for the tournament.

Ichigo knew that it wasn't easy to be a friend of an extremely famous person. Weasley probably felt overshadowed by his friend's legacy, and those feelings would lead to jealousy. The fact that Potter had apparently been found 'worthy' by the Goblet of Fire to compete against students with knowledge far more extensive and superior, would be one of the underlying reasons behind the feelings of jealousy and resentment Weasley currently felt.

He winced in sympathy as Weasley stormed from the table in a temper, leaving Potter glaring after him, with Granger looking torn about whether to follow their red-headed friend or staying behind to comfort Potter. Ichigo sighed resignedly. There wasn't anything he could do about the conflict between friends, and Weasley didn't like him very much either. Potter would just have to sort it out himself. The Boy-Who-Lived's safety, though, was another matter. The first task of the Tri-wizard Tournament was fast approaching, and despite what Dumbledore had said about the tournament being safer this year, Ichigo was still rather worried. There was a reason that the tournament had been discontinued, and it wasn't because of financial issues.

He would have to find out what exactly the first task would be, in order to better prepare for protecting Potter if it got out of hand. One of the supposed reasons Ichigo was here at Hogwarts, in addition to observing the wizarding culture, was to provide security, so any intervention on his part would not cause undue suspicion.

For the moment, though… Ichigo rubbed his temples as he prepared to face a day of hostile reactions from students and teachers alike. Apparently these wizards had yet to learn that not all that was in the newspaper was to be believed. He groaned quietly. It was going to be a long day.

#

Harry tried hard to ignore the green swirls of the badges Malfoy and his cronies had cooked up as he walked in the hallway. Silently he cursed to himself. Why did this have to happen to him? Not only was he being targeted by almost all the students of the school, he had even had a fight with his best friend, who was now ignoring him. Now according to Moody somebody had entered him in the tournament so that he might get killed. As if there hadn't been enough attempts on his life in the past few years at Hogwarts.

Harry was fuming so hard that he completely failed to notice a familiar-looking blonde Ravenclaw come to a complete halt in the hallway in front of him. Distracted by his thoughts, he plowed into her, sending both of them to the ground.

"Oomph!" Harry grunted as an elbow drove into his stomach, his breath leaving his lungs in an explosive _whoosh_. He lay on the ground, dazed, his head spinning from where it had hit the ground.

"Oh dear," said a dreamy voice somewhere above him. "Are you quite alright?"

Harry blinked. The figure was blurry, and he realized that his glasses had been knocked off in the fall. Groping around blindly, he reached for his glasses, but his hands grasped nothing but the cold floor.

"Here," the voice said again, and Harry felt his glasses being set on his face. Blinking, he focused on the person who had helped him. Recognition flashed through his mind as he looked into the wide blue eyes of Luna Lovegood, the Ravenclaw whom they had followed into Captain Kurosaki's chambers. An instant after the recognition struck, so did the guilt. He had intruded on the privacy of this girl and witnessed her collapse, and she didn't even know.

"Are you alright?" Luna repeated in her dreamy voice, though her bright blue eyes were intently focused on him. Harry frowned. Hadn't her eyes been grey before?

Struggling to his feet, he hurriedly bent to collect his things, placing his books back into his bag, which had fallen open when he fell. "Er, I'm okay," he stammered. "Sorry for running into you."

He was about to hurry away when he felt a warm hand grasp his wrist, pulling him back. "Wait," Luna said. "You're Harry Potter."

Harry felt warmth creep up his neck. _Great_, he thought morosely. _She's just going to gawk at by scar, or accuse me of cheating to get into the tournament. Just like everyone else._

"I believe you, you know," Luna said airily, as if what she had just said hadn't caused Harry's jaw to drop and students in the hallway to stop and gawk.

"Wh-what?" Harry stammered again. It seemed that all the students around him, who had been snickering at his fall, shared the sentiment, as they began backing away from Harry and Luna, until the hallway was deserted but the two of them.

"I'm fairly sure that I made myself quite clear," said Luna, the dreaminess vanishing from her voice abruptly. "He's worried about you, you know?"

"What?" Harry asked again. "Who's worried about me?"

"Ichigo," Luna said.

"Who's Ichigo?" asked Harry, getting increasingly confused.

Luna sighed. "Of course, he's never allowed you to call him by his first name. I'm talking about Captain Kurosaki, of course."

Harry blinked, feeling exceedingly stupid. "Oh, is that what his first name is?"

Luna sighed and shook her head, muttering something under her breath, which Harry couldn't make out. "What was that?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," Luna said airily. "You needn't worry about it. It wasn't anything to do with you. Not _directly_, anyway."

"What's that mean?" he shot back.

"I just said not to worry about it." Luna sighed in exasperation. "At any rate, the first task is coming up soon. Do you know what it is?"

"No…" Harry said, confused by the sudden change of subject. "Mr. Crouch said something about not knowing being a sign of bravery, or something like that. Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Luna said again. The dreaminess reappeared again, and her eyes wandered elsewhere. "I believe Hagrid wants to see you." Before Harry could say anything, she skipped off, whistling an oddly familiar cheery tune.

Harry could only stare at the blonde's retreating back, completely mystified at what had just happened.

#

Ichigo stared at the quartet of massive fire-breathing dragons. One of them, with wicked looking spines all across its back and tail, could breathe fire. A smaller, but no less fierce, red one could breathe fire. The green one was whipping its tail back and forth in irritation and could breathe fire. The tan-colored short-snouted one stomped the ground in anger and snorted fire. Did he mention, _they could breathe fire_?

A drop of sweat rolled down the back of his neck, and it wasn't from the heat of the dragons' breaths. No, the sweat was caused by the stupidity of these British wizards. For kami's sake! There was a reason dragon slayers were held in such high regard around the world. And now they were expecting mere untrained _children_ to face them down? Granted, the champions wouldn't have to _kill_ the dragons, no. They had to _steal_ an _egg_ from a nesting _mother_. Apparently, the British wizards had never found out that mothers will do anything to protect their children. Ichigo knew this from experience, and it still caused pangs of pain in his heart.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered as he watched the dragon-keepers struggle to subdue the raging Hungarian Horntail. A familiar reiatsu prickled the edge of his senses, and he reached out, feeling around the forest for the source. Along the way he detected several other reiatsu.

_Karkaroff, Maxime, Hagrid, and Potter_, Ichigo mused to himself. _Very clever. Maxime managed to convince Hagrid to show her the dragons, and now she'll go tell her champion. Karkaroff is also most likely going to tell his champion, and Potter's here, which means the only one left out of the loop is the other Hogwarts champion, that Diggory boy._

Ichigo grinned, his worry over the dragons forgotten. _Now, what will you do, Potter? Show me just what sort of man you are. Show me that you are worthy of everyone's expectations for you. _He felt Potter's reiatsu creep away from the clearing, which was now sporting several very badly burned trees. _You're a very interesting kid, Potter. Very interesting._

#

Ichigo stood in the middle of the Quidditch pitch had been terraformed almost beyond recognition in preparation for the first task, a few hours before its beginning. Potter had not failed his expectations. The young boy had made the honorable choice and informed the other champion of the dragons. Although not telling him would have given Potter a higher chance of winning, the decision to even up the playing field for Diggory had caused Ichigo's respect for him to jump several levels.

He gazed up at the sun, which was hovering in the sky a few hours from noon. The additional shinigami security were due to arrive any time, and Ichigo had been originally granted at least another captain, with maybe two vice-captain level fighters. He had requested additional reinforcements after seeing the dragons and doing some research on them. They had notoriously magic-resistant scales, which meant that low- to mid-level kidou would be all but nullified, as well as thickly armored scales. While in their gigai, no matter how specialized and modified they had been to better channel reiatsu, Ichigo, who could normally take on all three dragons without even breaking a sweat, would have trouble with the smallest one.

The air thickened noticeably, and Ichigo looked expectantly as the glowing senkai gates materialized. The rice-paper gates slid open, revealing the blinding white of the Dangai. He idly wondered who had been sent this time.

"GOOD MORNING, ICHIGOOOOOOO!"

"Aw, fuck."

#

Phew! This past week has been killer at school. I've had three tests in two days, so I spent all weekend and last week preparing. That studying paid off though, since I did quite well on most of them, although my AP Physics grade could have been better…

Anyways, I bring you the next chapter of _The Reaper_, and our favorite comic relief character: Isshin Kurosaki! Next chapter, an unexpected surprise for Ichigo, some very nasty dragons, and more badass shinigami! Stay tuned, drop a review, and I'll see you next time!

~fokker333


	17. Chapter 17

Ichigo swore violently and ducked instinctively. Kurosaki Isshin flew out of the open senkai gate feet first, sailing straight over Ichigo's head, the man's feet barely brushing the top of his orange hair.

"WOOW, ICHIGO!" Isshin hollered, getting up from the ground and dusting off his captain's haori, "It looks like your skills haven't rusted! Daddy's trained you well!"

"Shut the fuck up, goat-chin!" Ichigo shouted, glaring at his father. After the war with Aizen had ended, the former shinigami, along with Ichigo's sisters, had moved to Soul Society permanently. It turned out that since Isshin was a shinigami, Ichigo and his sisters were born in soul form. In a twisted, somewhat disturbing way, they were already dead when they were born.

"Yes, please shut up, Kurosaki-taicho," sighed a familiar voice. Ichigo turned back to the senkai gate, out of which more figures were emerging.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Ichigo deadpanned as the last figure stepped out of the senkai gate, which slid shut and vanished behind them. He stared at the eight captains and two vice-captains assembled in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. "I know that I requested extra security, but isn't this a bit overkill?"

"Ne, I just wanted to see what Britain's like," grinned the snake-like Ichimaru Gin, captain of the Third division.

"I was here last time, and I must say the wizarding world is fascinating," smiled Hitsugaya Momo, captain of the Fifth division.

"I came to see you, Ichi-nii!" chirped Kurosaki Yuzu, vice-captain of the Fifth division.

"Hn. I came to keep an eye on your father," said Kuchiki Byakuya, Captain of the Sixth division, with a straight face. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief. Thank kami, there was someone who could keep his idiot father in line.

"Yare yare… Nanao-chan kept bugging me about work, so I decided to take a break," said Kyouraku Shunsui, captain of the Seventh division, behind his wide-brimmed straw hat.

"My idiot son! I came to see how you were doing on your own! You must have gotten lonely all this time!" his idiot father, captain of the Ninth division, cried, a foolish expression across his face. Ichigo mentally facepalmed.

Hitsugaya Toushiro, captain of the Tenth division, shot the man a disgusted look. "I'm glad that you got all your genes from your mother, Ichigo."

"Che. Old Man Yamamoto ordered me not to fight you, Ichigo," spat Zaraki Kenpachi, captain of the Eleventh division. Ichigo paled at the sight of the hulking, violent captain. He paled even further when he noticed the absence of his diminutive vice-captain. Yachiru's absence could only mean that she was left running the Eleventh division back in Soul Society. He shuddered to think of the state of the division after only a day.

"Do you really need to ask why I'm here?" smirked Kurosaki Karin, vice-captain of the Thirteenth division. "Someone needs to shut the old goat-face up, and no offense, Kuchiki-taicho, I don't think it's a job you can handle on your own."

The noble only grunted, but in his mind he was agreeing wholeheartedly with the more aggressive Kurosaki twin.

Kuchiki Rukia, captain of the Thirteenth division following Ukitake's retirement, grinned. "Hey, Ichigo," she said. "How've the last few weeks been, babysitting the brats?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stifled a groan. "Please, don't remind me. Potter and Weasley got into a fight because Weasley's jealous of Potter. The Potions Master, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and the Durmstrang Headmaster all have the same dark reiatsu coming from their arms." He lowered his voice as he noticed students begin streaming into the bleachers, casting curious looks at the group of shinigami standing on the pitch. "I suspect they're Death Eaters. Dumbledore hasn't told me anything yet, and I don't have any proof other than the dark reiatsu, but Moody, the DADA teacher, is particularly suspicious. Keep an eye on him while you're here, please."

"The scarred one, right?" asked Toushiro. "Sure, no problem."

"Let us discuss the security then," said Byakuya as the group moved away from the pitch, heading off into the bleachers. "It's already suspected that Potter was forced into the tournament as a way for Riddle to harm him. Kurosaki-taicho and I shall guard the North side of the arena." Ichigo's father pouted at the thought of being stuck with the formal noble, but didn't complain. This was business, and business was to be taken seriously.

"Kenpachi, could you cover the East side?" asked Ichigo, and the Eleventh division captain grunted.

"Fine, it's not like I'll have anything better to do. You'll fight me once this mission is over, right?" A feral grin crossed the hulking man's face.

"Sure, whatever," said Ichigo. "After this mission, I'm gonna need some tough training. These wizards are so freaking soft. Anyway, Gin, could you take the South side?"

"Can I watch the tournament?" the Third division captain and informant during the war against Aizen, said with another wide grin. The captain-turned-traitor-turned-informant had been key in their defeat of a large portion of the Espada.

Ichigo sighed. It was no easy task, organizing so many high-class fighters. "Sure, as long as you're alert at all times. Kyouraku-san, please cover the West side."

"Sure, sure, no problem," drawled the lazy Seventh division captain.

"Toushiro, Momo, I need you two to keep an eye on Moody, Snape, and Karkaroff at all times. If they try anything fishy, let me know immediately with _Tenteikura_. If they do anything obvious, stop them." The couple nodded affirmative.

"Rukia, Yuzu, Karin, you're with me in the teacher's box," Ichigo continued. "If anything goes wrong in the arena with the dragons, we're the ones who are gonna be the closest to Potter. It's our job to protect him at all costs. Yuzu, you'll be playing the role of medic now. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, is quite capable, but I don't know her triage and emergency first aid abilities. Since you trained with Unohana-taicho, you'll be the best for that job. Rukia, you're my support. If there are any problems with the dragons, use your ice to neutralize their fire. Karin and I will be the heavy hitters, due to our abilities. Everyone clear on their jobs?"

The ten shinigami nodded, and Ichigo finished, "Alright, everyone to their posts! The event starts in an hour. I don't want any people to get hurt, wizard or otherwise!"

#

Harry stared down at the miniature Hungarian Horntail crawling around on his palm. It was a bit cute, really. Just by looking at the tiny dragon, Harry could see the appeal in dragons, similar to Hagrid's obsession. Then he remembered that in a few minutes he would be facing the life-sized version of the thing in his hand, in all its spiked, fire-breathing glory, and that appeal vanished in an instant.

The roaring of the crowd filtered into the champions' tent as Fleur Delacour, the French witch and part Veela, faced her dragon. Harry vaguely wondered what the other champions' strategies were for the task. Krum was an international-level Quidditch player, maybe he had used the same method that Harry had been training for in the past weeks.

The crowd roared again, and Harry tuned out the noise and the sound of Bagman's narration as he gathered his nerves. Breathe in. Breathe out. With each breath, he calmed his thumping heart saturating his lungs with oxygen. Reaching into the combat holster on his left arm that he had bought, he touched the reassuring wood of his wand, the only weapon he was allowed for the task. Of course, if all went well, that wand would serve to provide the tool that Harry was planning to use.

After what seemed like eternity, Harry's ears finally caught the sound of Bagman announcing him. This was it. Opening his eyes, he took one last deep breath, stood up, and strode out of the tent and into the arena.

The roaring of the crowd assaulted his eardrums as his eyes struggled to adjust to the bright sunlight. After spending so much time in the dim tent, the sunlight caused him to squint in an attempt to see clearly.

Looking around at the stands of the Quidditch Pitch, Harry saw hundreds of students shouting, cheering, or booing. The last wasn't entirely unexpected, as the Hufflepuffs were still sore about his entrance into the tournament. What did surprise him, though, was the fluttering white overcoats of the Japanese wizards. There were at least five white-clad Japanese wizards, with one standing on each of the towers that marked the South, East, and West sides of the Pitch, with two standing at the North.

Sweeping his gaze through the crowd, Harry picked out two more of the Japanese wizards, sitting near the teacher's box. He was slightly surprised at first at how many of the Japanese were present, before he remembered that they were also acting as security for the tasks. A shock of bright orange hair caught his eye, and he looked to the teacher's box, where Captain Kurosaki was sitting. Additionally, Harry noticed his wife, Kuchiki Rukia, as well as two other unfamiliar faces. They were wearing the same black uniform as the other Japanese, but without the white jacket. The sun glinted off of something metal tied to their upper arms, and Harry wondered what they could be, as well as the significance of those white cloaks.

Harry caught captain Kurosaki's eye and noticed that the Japanese envoy was shouting at him. Unfortunately, his shouts were inaudible over the roaring of the crowd. He couldn't read lips, but the expression on the Captain's face, as well as the way the crowd's cheers turned into shouts and screams of horror, told him all he needed to know.

Acting purely on instinct, Harry dove away from the spot where he had been standing, landing on his shoulders and rolling behind a large boulder as a massive spiked tail smashed into his previous position, crushing the rock and sending spikes as long as his forearm into the ground.

The Horntail, a thick iron collar and chain around its neck staking it to the ground, roared aggressively, curling around its nest and its eggs protectively. Harry chanced a peek around the boulder, ducking away from another swing of the tail. The glint of gold told Harry exactly where the golden egg that was his goal was: right in the middle of the stone-colored dragon eggs that the Horntail was so jealously guarding.

Harry felt the air temperature suddenly shoot up, and he curled up into a ball behind the boulder as the dragon blasted it with fire, heating the other side red-hot. Sweat ran in rivulets down Harry's neck, dripping into the hem of his lightweight but sturdy combat robes. "Frigidus!" he cried, casting the cooling charm on himself to keep from burning from the heat. He dared not cast the spell on the rock itself, since when extremely hot objects were suddenly cooled, they would crack and crumble. Harry needed the rock as protection from the dragon's deadly breath.

He stepped away from the rock so that his back was no longer touching the boulder, which was not hot to the touch, and steeled his muscles. An instant later, the fire stopped roaring out of the dragon's gaping maw, and Harry took the chance.

Sprinting out from behind the boulder, Harry desperately sought for the next piece of cover. Behind him, the Horntail roared loudly, the sound easily drowning out the noise of the crowd. Harry knew that the dragon was preparing for another blast of fire, and in an instant his wand was in his hand. "Accio Firebolt!"

He didn't have a chance to see if the summoning spell had worked as he dove behind cover again, just in time to avoid another blast of flame. By now, his entire face was damp with sweat, and he could feel the heat on his face, the fire overwhelming the capability of the cooling charm. "Come on, come on!" he muttered, willing for the spell to have worked. It had to have, he'd been practicing with Hermione all week!

A startled gasp arose from the crowd, and Harry felt relief surge within him as he caught sight of the polished wood of his trusty broom whizzing towards him from the sky. The dragon stopped its breath and Harry sprinted up the rock that he had been hiding upon, feeling the soles of his shoes melting from the heat, and jumped.

For an instant, Harry was airborne, flying through the air without assistance, the wind whipping at his face, blowing his messy hair away from his forehead and exposing his lightning scar for the entire crowd to see. For once in his life Harry was thankful for wearing glasses, as they kept the wind out of his eyes, allowing him to see.

The next instant, Harry was firmly seated upon his broom, legs and hands wrapped around the solid oak shaft as he took control, shooting straight up into the air. A rush of exhilaration caused him to throw his head back and laugh as the crowd cheered deafeningly below. Harry grinned. He was in his element. The dragon was no threat now. The fire, the spiked tail, they were no different from the Bludgers that constantly sought to knock him off his broom during Quidditch matches, the dragon itself nothing more than just another opposing team.

Harry began circling just outside the reach of the Horntail's vicious claws, easily dodging the fire that it spat up at him. "Come on, dragon," he muttered under his breath as he forced his broom sideways, narrowly avoiding the spiked tail as it slashed through the air. "Take the bait."

Take the bait it did. With an enraged roar, the Horntail took to the air, flapping its massive wings, the downdrafts blowing the clothing of the onlookers wildly. In an instant, the dragon was before him, roaring a challenge at the pesky fly that had been circling its head.

Harry dove. Straight down, the wind tearing at his clothes and hair as he vanished from the dragon's vision in a fraction of a second. The ground rushed up to meet him as he dove, and he pulled up sharply on the handle of the broom, pulling out of the dive bare inches from the ground.

"Amazing! Simply remarkable! Mr. Potter, our youngest and least experienced champion, has not only taken to the skies, but also has just pulled off a picture-perfect Wronski Feint that rivals even the esteemed Mr. Krum's at the World Cup! Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?" Bagman's voice thundered through the arena as students cheered, leaping to their feet.

Harry sped parallel to the ground towards the clutch of dull grey eggs surrounding the golden one. As he drew closer, his gaze was drawn to the ground below, where his shadow was consumed by a large, familiar-looking object.

The crowd screamed in unison as searing pain tore through Harry's arm, the spiked tail of the Horntail ripping long bloody gashes through his combat robes. He grit his teeth through the pain and continued flying, dodging and weaving through the bursts of flame and swipes of claws and tail, his eyes focused only on the golden egg, glinting in the sunlight.

With a triumphant yell mingled with pain, he scooped up the golden egg, cradling it close to his body, blood from his mangled arm smearing over its gleaming surface as he raced desperately away from the enraged dragon.

"I've got it!" he shouted desperately, his lungs seared from the many narrow misses from the gouts of flame. "I've got the egg!"

He saw dragon-handlers rush onto the field to subdue the dragon, and his limbs went weak. The adrenaline seeped from his body, and he slowly drifted to a halt in front of the teacher's box at ground level, dropping off his broom as his body succumbed to fatigue.

#

Ichigo watched as Harry maneuvered skillfully around the Horntail's attacks and silently cursed. Of all the tactics the boy could have chosen to take on the dragon, it had to be this one. It was a high risk, high reward plan, and the kid knew it. He half started up from his seat as he watched the dragon slash it across the arm. "Get ready, Yuzu," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. His sister nodded, and he felt her gather her reiatsu around her palms as she prepared for emergency first aid.

He watched in relief as the boy floated to a halt while dragon-handlers rushed to subdue the raging Horntail. He, Karin, and Yuzu were on their feet in an instant, the light-haired twin rushing to Harry's side, the green glow of kidou surrounding her hands in an instant

Ichigo sighed. It was over. Or so it seemed. A massive flare of reiatsu behind him caused him to whip around, turning his attention to the Horntail. With a roar, the massive dragon jerked its neck once, twice, thrice, and with a loud _SNAP_ the chain the dragon to the ground broke, and the Horntail spun in a circle, sending the six dragon-handlers flying.

"Shit. Yuzu, take Potter and get him out of here. Bakudo no. 77, _Tenteikura!_ _||All shinigami, we have an emergency situation in the grounds! Combat troops, to me! Momo, help the teachers evacuate the Pitch!||_"

In an instant, all the shinigami were assembled on the pitch, with Momo flash-stepping to the side to help the teachers evacuate and Yuzu healing Harry. Gin, Byakuya, Kyouraku, Toushiro, Isshin, Kenpachi, Ichigo, and Rukia stood, blades drawn, facing down the Horntail.

Another roar sounded, and the Chinese Fireball, Swedish Shortsnout, and Welsh Green appeared on the field, crashing through the stands and roaring in anger and defiance at the shinigami.

#

Cliffhanger! Who set the dragons loose? And how will the shinigami, limited as they are by their gigai, fare against them? Stay tuned!

~fokker333


	18. Chapter 18

"Ha!" Kenpachi snarled gleefully, his katana with its signature jagged edge glinting in the sunlight as students shouted and screamed around him, the teachers and Momo struggling to escort them away from danger. "And here I was thinking that I wouldn't get to see any action here!"

"Just don't go overboard and pop out of your gigai. These gigai that Urahara gave you are custom made to better channel your reiatsu better, so we should be able to handle these dragons while in our gigai. Stick to kidou and zanjutsu and we should be fine!" Ichigo called back, eyeing the raging Horntail, slowly drawing his katana and a kidou gun from his hip, holding both weapons at the ready.

The dragons pawed the ground of the arena restlessly, snorting, gouts of flame spouting from their nostrils as they eyed the reapers standing before them, weapons drawn and ready.

After a moment of silence, punctuated only by the sounds of chaos as the students fled the arena, the Horntail decided to act. With a roar, it reared up and blasted fire straight at a trio of fifth-year students who were struggling to exit.

"No!" McGonagall screamed over the roar of the flames, staring in horror at the flames that had engulfed the students. In her shock she didn't notice that three of the Japanese wizards had vanished, or hear the shout of "Bakudou no. 81, _Danku_!"

After what seemed like eternity, the Horntail finally stopped breathing flame, turning its attention to the large, spikey-haired Japanese with a long, jagged-edged katana that leapt in front of it. The flames died away, leaving McGonagall and several others faculty and students to gape at the three Japanese, standing or crouching before the three cowering students, hands extended, the fire curling and dissipating around the edges of a large, transparent shield that shimmered in the heat.

Ichigo straightened from his crouch, nodding to Rukia and Byakuya, who had assisted him in defending the students. Turning to the shell-shocked students, who, he noticed, wore the telltale green of Slytherin House, he smiled comfortingly. "Are you guys okay?" The three nodded shakily, standing on wobbling knees. "Follow Momo, she'll get you out safely, alright?" he said, pointing to the young-looking captain of the Fifth division, who was standing nearby.

Ichigo smirked as the kind-hearted kidou expert took the three shaken students under her wing, and turned back to the dragons, which had taken the Horntail's attack as a signal and began their assault on the defending shinigami. Shooting a look at Byakuya and Rukia, he drew his katana again. "Let's go."

Ichigo flashed directly into battle, sparks flying as his blade scraped along the razor-sharp claws of the Swedish Shortsnout as it took a swipe at Toushiro. Nodding a quick thanks to the orange-haired captain, the white-haired prodigy held out a hand, bright white energy gathering at the center of his palm. "Hadou no. 4, _Byakurai!_"

The lightning streaked from his hand, impacting the Shortsnout's face with an explosion, wreathing the dragon's head with smoke. The Shortsnout roared in pain, shaking its head and dissipating the smoke with a shake of its head, emerging seemingly unharmed.

"I guess I should have told you guys before," yelled Ichigo over the sounds of the battle, looking slightly sheepish as he locked blades with the Shortsnout again, "Dragons are notoriously magic-resistant! Their skin is also extremely strong, so its hard to get through their armor!"

"You idiot!" Rukia called back as she held back the Chinese Fireball with a barrage of _Soukatsui_ spells, the blue fire roaring from her hand to clash with the dragon fire spewing forth from the Fireball's throat. "Don't withhold that sort of important information from us in the future!"

"HAHAHAHA!" Kenpachi laughed maniacally as he engaged the Horntail, with support from Ichimaru Gin. "Man, this is almost as much fun as fighting with you, Ichigo!" he screamed as a spike on the dragon's tail grazed the Eleventh division captain's arm, causing blood to run down the huge man's arm.

Gin said nothing, grinning, as he observed the raging dragon and raging berserker before him through slitted eyes. They narrowed even further, if that was possible, as he noticed the dragon unconsciously keeping one side away from the madly laughing Kenpachi, defending particularly viciously as Kenpachi attacked a certain spot. Gin focused on the spot, and his sharp eyesight picked out a single cracked scale, less than an inch in diameter. His grin widened, stretching across his face sinisterly. _Target sighted._

_"||Ikorose, Shinsou!||"_ The short, wakizashi-length blade that was Ichimaru Gin's zanpakutou extended at blindingly fast speeds, covering the several meters' distance between the Third division captain and the angry dragon in less than the blink of an eye. In an instant, the blade's tip broke through the weakened armored scale, plunging deep into the dragon's side.

With a roar of pain, the Horntail jerked, surprising Gin as his blade was almost yanked out of his hand. With a small pulse of reiatsu, Shinsou was again wakizashi length, held in a relaxed but firm grip in the silver-haired man's hand. "So," Gin mused playfully, raising his blade to his face, licking the drops of blood off the shining steel, snakelike. "These overgrown lizards ain't too invincible after all."

Kyouraku huffed beneath the wide brim of his straw hat, pouting. "Aw, man. This is so troublesome. And here I was thinking that this would be an easy assignment. Well, fighting's better than doing paperwork, at any rate." He shuddered at the thought of his bespectacled vice-captain with her massive tome, threatening to brain him if he didn't do his work. "Yep, definitely better." He stared up at the looming figure of the Welsh Green, its massive teeth bared threateningly. "Ne, Ryuu-san, do you mind not fighting? I just want to sleep."

The smallest of the quartet of the dragons, but not small in any sense of the word, roared, the force blowing the lazy Eighth division captain captain's straw hat away and causing his haori and flowered kimono to flutter madly. "Ah, man," Kyouraku pouted again. "That was my favorite hat. Ne, Ryuu-san, you owe me a hat now," he said, crouching into a battle stance, drawing his _daishou_ sword pair, the katana in his right and wakizashi in his left. "Now you've made me angry. Bad move on your part."

#

Harry blinked blearily, a small groan escaping his lips unbidden. "Ah, you're awake!" a feminine, kind-sounding voice chirped from somewhere above him. He blinked again, trying to focus on the source of the voice. After a while, his eyes landed upon the kind features of a teen with light brown hair. Despite her light hair, the girl had a distinctively Asian face, and Harry somehow knew instinctively that this was yet another of the Japanese wizards, or witch in this case.

"Wha…" he got out, the word sounding garbled to his ears. "What's going on?" Sudden remembrance struck him, and he bolted upright, only to collapse again as pain shot through his arm. _That's right_, he remembered. _The Horntail got me._

"The dragons broke loose," the Japanese girl said, casting a worried look over her shoulder to where sounds of battle, clashing steel, and roars were coming from. "Ichi-nii and the others are taking care of it for now. I'm not worried about them, not really. What I'm worried about is you, Harry-kun. You took quite the hit. Your arm was cut quite badly, the spike severing a major artery and several important muscles. I'm working on repairing the damage, but I'm afraid your arm is going to be rather weak and sore for quite a while."

Harry looked to his side, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood-soaked ground. His sight was drawn to a glow of green, and he realized that the light-haired Japanese girl was holding both her hands over the long, ragged wound on his arm, glowing green. He couldn't help but let out a startled gasp when he saw that the skin and muscle was knitting itself together before his very eyes, the bleeding having already stopped. "How are you doing that?" he gasped, eyes wide.

The girl smiled kindly. "It's called healing kidou. Has Ichi-nii demonstrated regular kidou to you yet?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, the most he could do to convey his confusion in his current state. "Ichi-nii?" he asked.

"Ah, I forgot," the girl said again. "Ichigo's my older brother. I'm the older of his twin sisters, Kurosaki Yuzu."

"He has sisters?" Harry asked, surprise evident in his voice and face. "He never told me. Then again, we didn't exactly get off on the right foot…"

Yuzu laughed lightly. "Sounds like Ichi-nii!" she said cheerfully, all the while maintaining the healing kidou on his arm. Within minutes the gaping wound had completely healed, leaving only a white scar on his arm. She bit her lip, looking slightly guilty. "I've healed the wound, but I'm afraid there isn't anything I can do for the scarring," she said regretfully. "I may be an accomplished healer, but there are things that not even Unohana-taicho, my mentor, can do."

Harry sat up, flexing his arm experimentally. He marveled at the power this young girl before him possessed. Not only was there no pain, apart from a little stiffness, his arm felt fine. Not only that, his whole body felt refreshed, rejuvenated, as if he hadn't just challenged an angry mother dragon head-on.

His attention turned to the sounds of battle behind him, and his jaw dropped open at what he saw. There, with white cloaks fluttering dramatically in the wind, the sunlight glinting off their drawn katanas, eight of the Japanese wizards, those with the ranks of 'captain', engaged in ferocious combat with all four dragons. He heard shouts to the side and turned his head to see yet another white-cloaked Japanese helping McGonagall and the teachers with the student evacuation. This one Harry recognized as Captain Hitsugaya Momo, whom Ichigo had introduced the night of the champion selection.

"Why are there so many high-level Japanese here?" he asked Yuzu. "Ichigo told me that in your organization, there are thirteen divisions, each led by a captain, who are signified by their white cloaks. Why are there nine captains here, at Hogwarts, of all places?"

Yuzu giggled again. "The captains of the Gotei 13 are quite… unusual people," she explained. "Ichimaru-taicho – that is, Captain Ichimaru – of the Third division… well, he just does what he wants to do. There isn't much anyone could have done to stop him from coming. Captain Zaraki… I think Ichi-nii tempted him with a fight. Captain Kyouraku was probably avoiding paperwork, and the rest came last time. Except for Dad…"

"Your father?" Harry asked, intrigued. "And you said that you had a twin sister?"

"Yup!" Yuzu confirmed. "Karin is the vice-captain of the Thirteenth division, under Ruki-nee, and I'm the vice-captain of the Fifth division, under Captain Hitsugaya. And Dad's the captain of the Ninth division."

"Wow," murmured Harry, eyes wide. "So almost your entire family is in the 'Gotei 13', huh. What about your mom?" Instantly he regretted asking, as Yuzu's expression darkened, and she looked away.

"Our mother died when we were young," was her simple answer, the girl's cheerful, kind personality replaced by detachment.

"I'm sorry," said Harry sincerely. "I know how you feel. My parents died when I was only one year old."

The two sat in silence for a while, unsure of what else to say. The awkwardness was interrupted a few minutes later when a pained shout came from the battle, and a dark-haired girl staggered towards Yuzu, blood leaking from a gash across her chest.

"Karin-chan!" Yuzu cried, leaping to her feet.

"Yuzu," gritted the dark-haired girl, whom Harry surmised was the younger twin, Ichigo's other sister. "don't panic. It's just a flesh wound. Got caught by that stupid dragon's tail."

"Lie down," Yuzu ordered, her concern morphing into a stern, commanding personality. The light-haired twin yanked the black kimono down, exposing the wound, and Harry flushed, turning away politely in order to give the injured Japanese girl some privacy. Instead, he watched the fight again.

It seemed that the Japanese were more capable of matching the dragons as they were. Harry was impressed at the power each of the fighters possessed. When he first saw the dragons in the forest, it had taken at least five accomplished dragon-keepers to subdue even one, and there were only two or three Japanese per dragon now, with the massive, spikey-haired man taking on the Horntail all by himself, with a sinisterly grinning silver-haired man occasionally leaping in to strike at the weak points of the dragon.

#

Ichigo blocked a swipe from the Swedish Shortsnout on the flat of his blade, firing a shot of _Okasen_ from his kidou gun in his other hand. These dragons really were pesky, with their high magic resistance and heavy armor. At the rate things were going, the fight would turn into a long-term battle of attrition, each side seeking to wear the other down. The dragons might begin to rampage, causing massive damage to buildings. They had to finish the fight now before it spread to the rest of the school grounds.

Toushiro rushed in to engage the dragon, and Ichigo took the moment of reprieve to cast a quick glance around. Momo had joined Rukia in combating the Chinese Fireball, the kidou experts exchanging blindingly fast barrages of kidou with the dragon. Her presence could only mean that the students had finally been safely evacuated to a safe distance. Ichigo smirked. Time to end this.

"Toushiro! Rukia! As commander of this mission, I hereby grant permission for level one release! Let's end this quickly before it gets out of hand!"

"Roger that!" both captains shouted, flash-stepping out of range. Rukia placed a hand on her katana, sliding it down the flat as she released her shikai. _"||Mai, Sode no Shirayuki!||" ___With a blinding flash of light and a rush of cold, her blade turned pure white, a blindingly bright silk ribbon trailing from the hilt. Snow swirled around her, and the gouts of fire from the Chinese Fireball sputtered away immediately, completely sapped by the cold air.

_"||Soten ni Zase, Hyourinmaru!||"_ Another rush of cold air, along with the darkening of clouds and a flutter of unseasonal snow, heralded the rush of Hitsugaya Toushiro's shikai. A chain and crescent-shaped blade now trailed from Toushiro's blade, and a sheet of ice began to coat the ground at the white-haired captain's feet.

Ichigo smirked at the strength of the wielders of the most powerful ice- and cold-type zanpakutou in the Gotei 13. Even restricted by their gigai, he could feel the power in the air. The fact that the temperature had dropped to below freezing and the snow falling from the clouds had nothing to do with the pure strength he could feel emanating from his friend and wife.

"Stand clear!" Rukia shouted, the other captains abandoning their fights, unwilling to get caught in their attacks. Although they would not be too injured, even the strongest of the shinigami present definitely did not want to get frozen by either the Tenth or the Thirteenth division captains.

Pivoting gracefully on her feet, Rukia poised her blade. Her motions were fluid and smooth, almost dancelike, showing all exactly why her attacks were called dances. _"||Some no Mai, Tsukishiro!||"_

A massive white circle appeared beneath the feet of the Chinese Fireball and the Welsh Green. The dragons attempted to take to the air to escape the chilling cold, but it was already too late. Ice had begun to crawl up their taloned feet, freezing them in place, leaving them to the mercy of Rukia's attack. In an instant, a pillar of ice encased the two dragons, extending far up into the sky, ripping a hole in the clouds.

Toushiro cut the air with a crescent slash, his blade humming with energy. An enormous ice dragon burst out of the blade, roaring its defiance at its fiery counterparts. Despite the combined efforts of the Swedish Shortsnout and the Hungarian Horntail, which blasted it with fire, the ice dragon powered through, wrapping both dragons in ice and encasing them like the other two.

Harry could only watch and gape at the powers of these two Japanese fighters, who were so strong that they could singlehandedly take down two dragons each. Just what sort of strength did these people have?

#

Hey everyone, fokker333 here! Sorry for the cliffhanger I left you with last chapter, I hope this makes up for it! Also, I have a quick question for my readers. I'm considering starting another Harry Potter/Bleach crossover story, since a plot bunny bit me hard last night and refuses to let go. Currently I'm considering to write the story but to not post until I'm finished with either it or one of the two stories that are currently in progress. Juggling two stories is hard enough, and along with school stuff I don't think I'll be able to manage a third. So my question is this: how many of you guys would read the new story? Summary is as follows:

_It was all over. The war was lost, Britain decimated, the world left devastated in the wake of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Harry Potter and the remnant of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army can do nothing but hide, struggling to survive in the rubble of wizarding society._

_Meanwhile, the bedraggled remnants of a once-mighty society, the soldiers who once cast fear into the hearts of Hollows, find themselves trapped in the world of the living, as their realm disintegrates into nothingness. With no hope left, they turn only to vengeance, determined to destroy the being that caused the destruction of their world._

_In an act of desperation, two crushed societies join forces to vanquish the greatest evil the world has ever known in one final attempt to set things right._

Well? What do you think? Drop a review letting me know if you would read that story or not. Oh, and write some comments about the chapter, too. That would be nice. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time!

~fokker333


	19. Chapter 19

"The incident was not an accident," Ichigo informed Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff, and various teachers of Hogwarts. "When we examined the area where the dragons were kept, we discovered signs of tampering with the locks and chains. Also, the two dragon-keepers assigned to keep guard of the area were stunned. We interviewed them after they came to, but neither of them knew anything, and they didn't see whomever it was that knocked them out and let the dragons loose. However, we cannot let the culprit get away. The only people who had access to the dragons were the dragon-keepers, and we've gathered them all in one place. The person who released the dragons could be a Death Eater, but we've ruled out that possibility."

"Oh?" asked Snape with a raised brow. "And why is that?" He threw a look at Moody. "Didn't we establish that if the Dark Lord's supporters wanted to get at Potter, the tournament was a perfect opportunity for that?"

Toushiro nodded. "It's true that this is a good opportunity, but we have reason to believe that Riddle wants Harry alive, and the dragons would definitely have killed him had we not intervened. No, this was the work of a party other than the Death Eaters."

"So who are ze suspects?" asked Maxime. "Surely you 'ave some idea?"

"We do," nodded Ichigo. "Although you and Headmaster Karkaroff may not know, a few weeks ago we," he gestured at the assembled shinigami, "had a touch of trouble with Minister Fudge. He demanded that I be arrested for my actions during the Quidditch World Cup, which you have undoubtedly heard of."

"Certainly," Karkaroff said, a slight sneer in his voice. "That you single-handedly took on several dozen suspected Death Eaters and not only held your own, but also incapacitated several of them, is not news to me. Although I must profess myself curious about your abilities, _Captain Kurosaki_," he muttered, a scowl appearing on his face.

Ichigo smirked, and there were a few muted chuckles among the ranks of the shinigami. "I believe that almost everyone I've met in magical Britain has professed similar feelings. But this is neither the time nor the place for a demonstration. I'm going to be blunt with my explanation, because it is one that is definitely displeasing to all of you."

McGonagall frowned. "You mentioned the incident with Minister Fudge. What does that have to do with the situation?"

"Everything," Ichigo replied. "The Minister and the Ministry of Magic has _everything_ to do with the attack during the First Task today."

"What are you getting at, Captain Kuro- _no_," Karkaroff cut himself off with a snarl as he realized what Ichigo was hinting at. A quick glance around confirmed the young captain's suspicions that the others understood as well. "The _Ministry_? Your government is sabotaging the tournament? This is preposterous!"

The other teachers made similar noises of disgust and discontent. Snape's expression darkened. "I always knew the man was a fool," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for Ichigo and the other shinigami's heightened senses to hear. "How he managed to get elected is a mystery to me." Ichigo had to hold back a smirk at the Potions Master's blatant dislike for the Minister.

"So the Minister is upset over the hubbub you caused when he tried to arrest you," muttered McGonagall, "and sent someone to sabotage the dragons, knowing that you and your companions were on security duty, in the hopes that they would be too much for you and your people to handle, and perhaps get rid of the thorn in his side."

Ichigo nodded, his golden eyes flashing dangerously in anger. "Allow me to assure you," he said, addressing Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Maxime, the latter two of which seemed furious and distressed, respectively, "that subduing the rampaging dragons was not an overly challenging task for us. However, Professor Dumbledore, I would ask that a formal investigation be conducted over this incident. I have no doubt that my people can handle themselves in the event of an emergency like today, but the fact remains that your government has conducted an unofficial Minister-sanctioned attacked on myself and my fellow warriors. As political envoys and representatives of the magical government of Japan, this was not a wise move on the part of Mister Fudge. We do not want war any more than the next person, but if a similar situation occurs, my higher-ups' hands may be forced." Ichigo and the other shinigami had successfully inserted themselves into the magical government of Japan. It was a very powerful government, but also very small, its leading group consisting only of the Emperor of magic and a few trusted advisors. With so few high-ranking officials, it had been relatively easy to modify their memories.

Dumbledore stroked his beard pensively. "I believe I can arrange for an investigation," he said, nodding. "However, I must warn you that Cornelius Fudge has the backing of many powerful political allies. Even if we have sufficient evidence of his role behind the dragon attack, it will most likely not be enough to do any significant damage on his reputation."

Ichigo gave a short nod, his golden eyes cold. "Although he has not made an enemy of Japan, he has certainly damaged his relationship with me, the official envoy. My own younger sister was injured in the attack. She will be fine, but I'm not sorry to say that my own opinion of your government is rather… lacking."

Dumbledore grimaced. "I'm afraid I have little control over the actions of the Ministry. Cornelius Fudge has always been wary of myself and my actions at Hogwarts. Many people wanted me to become Minister of Magic right after the end of the war, but I declined."

"Albus has overwhelming support from the people of magical Britain," McGonagall said. "If he were to ask the people for a favor, I doubt there would be one in five who would refuse it. Cornelius is afraid of that power."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "So Fudge is just another power-hungry fool. At least he isn't trying to destroy the world to get that power."

The wizards chuckled, but Ichigo remained silent. His seemingly casual comment was a painful reminder of a long-dead traitor who had wreaked havoc with their world. The wizards had not noticed, but Ichigo had said those words with a hidden layer of hatred, the hatred that all the shinigami held for the traitor captain who had tried to become God.

Snape, who had been mostly silent until now, suddenly spoke up. "Where are the rest of your compatriots? I notice that you are the only one here speaking with us."

Ichigo shrugged casually. "Oh, they're just interrogating the dragon-keepers." At the somewhat wary looks he received from those wizards who had caught a glimpse of what the shinigami could do against the dragons, he hurried to reassure them. "Don't worry, they're not going to harm them, just ask a few questions. Although I can't speak for Kenpachi, Gin, or my dad," he added thoughtfully. "Those guys are batshit crazy."

#

"Oy, you idiots!"

Ichimaru Gin was interrupted by the shout of his temporary superior for his mission. Withdrawing his face from the sweating, slightly trembling dragon-keeper, he grinned widely. "Yo, Ichigo," he greeted the orange-haired mission leader. "Somethin' wrong?"

"I thought I told you not to intimidate them," Ichigo said, gesturing to the dragon-keeper. "We don't need any bad PR with the British Ministry now."

Gin pouted. "Aw, but Ichi-taicho, yer ruinin' my fun!"

"You aren't here to have fun!" Ichigo yelled, a tick mark appearing on his forehead. "You realize that the moment you stepped out of that senkai gate into the school grounds, you entered my jurisdiction? I'm in charge of this mission, and I don't care that you didn't come here sanctioned for the mission, you interfere with my mission, I get to order you around, and you have to _follow my orders_. Understand?"

"Hai, hai, I get ya, Ichi-taicho. Anyways, I figured that this guy seemed a bit more suspicious then the rest, so I took the liberty of interrogatin' him myself."

Ichigo sighed heavily. "And I suppose your idea of casual interrogation would include obvious intimidation tactics?"

Gin pouted again. "I didn't intimidate him, I jus' looked at him while askin' him questions!"

Ichigo gave a wry smile. "I guess you don't really realize that your face is intimidation in and of itself, huh. At any rate, as leader of the mission, I order you to leave him to me. Go away, Gin."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," Gin said, turning and walking out of the tent. Waving his hand casually at the dragon-keeper, he give the poor man one last snakelike grin before disappearing from view.

"Sorry about my companion," Ichigo said to the man, whose trembling and sweating had visibly ceased upon Gin's departure. "He can be a bit scary at times, ne?"

The dragon-keeper, a pale man with long, scraggly dark hair, nodded fervently. Ichigo frowned imperceptibly. This man had the same dark reiatsu as Moody, Snape, and Karkaroff. This was another factor that he would have to keep an eye on.

"I just have a few questions to ask you," he told the man. "First, let me introduce myself. My name is Ichigo Kurosaki. I'm the special envoy from the magical government of Japan. Normally I wouldn't be the one asking questions, but one of my companions was injured in the attack by the rampaging dragons. This, naturally, is a cause for concern. You understand, right?"

The dragon-keeper nodded. "The names Macnair. Walden Macnair, sir," he said, straightening. "I work for the Ministry's Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures. I volunteered when I heard that they needed dragon-keepers for the Tri-wizard Tournament. I'm afraid I have no idea how the dragons got loose. I wasn't among those assigned to the pens," he said smoothly.

Ichigo knew at once that the man was lying. The subtle reiatsu fluctuation was proof of that. But as long as Macnair denied his involvement in the releasing of the dragons, and they remained in Britain and were subject to Britain's laws, there was nothing he could do. So, without batting an eye, the Captain nodded. "I see. I believe you, Mr. Macnair. You're free to leave."

"Thank you, sir," Macnair said as he rose from the chair he was seated on and exited the tent. Moments later, the rest of the shinigami entered.

"He was lying," Byakuya said without preamble.

Ichigo nodded. "I know," he replied, beginning to pace. "So our suspicions were confirmed. I assume you all felt the dark reiatsu from the guy's arm?" Murmurs of confirmation came from the group of gathered shinigami, and Ichigo continued. "So my suspicions were confirmed. There's somebody actively sabotaging the tasks. But this begs the question: which party is responsible? The man was a Ministry employee, so he could have been acting under the orders of the Minister, who wants us 'Japanese envoys' gone, as payback for humiliating him. However, he could also be a Death Eater plant within the Ministry, whose goal is to get at Potter somehow. I probably won't have any trouble dealing with the Ministry if it's them trying to get rid of me, but if it's the Death Eaters after Potter, then there may be some trouble."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Toushiro.

"At this point, due to the dragon incident, it would not seem out of place to bring in at least another 'envoy' to Hogwarts," Byakuya mused.

"That is true, but more presence would alert both the Ministry and the Death Eaters and possibly make our jobs of destroying Riddle more difficult, especially if we are still subject to the law," countered Kyouraku.

"I think I will continue to be the only 'envoy' at Hogwarts," Ichigo interrupted before an argument could break out. It will draw less attention to us, and I'll get Luna to keep an eye on Potter. This will allow us to make sure Potter is safe, as well as for me to observe Luna's abilities. A case like hers has never occurred before, and it's an excellent chance for us to document something like this."

"Hn," said Byakuya. "Then we shall return to Soul Society and report to Yamamoto-soutaicho." He drew his blade, thrusting it into the air and giving it a quarter turn. The glowing senkai gate opened in the tent, and the rest of the shinigami stepped through, leaving Ichigo alone.

He shook his head. "Geez," he muttered to himself. "Every time they come, something stupid comes up. Maybe I should just request that I continue this mission on my own…"

#

Gah, finally, I found enough time to write the next chapter! This one doesn't have much action, it's mostly plot development. And we figure out who released the dragons! But is Macnair working for the Ministry or Voldemort? Stay tuned to find out!

Drop a review of you could, I appreciate all of them a lot, and thanks for reading. See you all next chapter, which hopefully won't take a month to write. Peace!

~fokker333


	20. Chapter 20

Ichigo sighed as he trudged down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. Not that he was complaining, but the constant celebrating of the Gryffindors, whose dorms were almost right next to his chambers, had kept him awake all night, leaving him with dark bags under his intimidating golden eyes, accentuating their unique hue and giving him an even more predatory look about him. It didn't help that his companions, whose familiar reiatsu helped greatly in suppressing his assimilated Hollow personality, had left, leaving him cranky and irritated in general.

"Move, please," he muttered through gritted teeth at the throngs of students crowded around the entrance to the Great Hall. Instantly their attention was focused on him, and Ichigo was suddenly deluged with questions.

"You were so cool when you faced down the dragons!"

"What was that you guys were doing?"

"Tell us more about your powers!"

"What was that giant ice dragon that that white-haired kid summoned?"

Ichigo groaned. All the chatter was giving him a migraine, compounded by his lack of sleep. The fact that apparently some students had seen him and his companions in combat and that rumors about them had already begun spreading didn't exactly help matters. A pulsing tick appeared on his forehead as the students continued to pound him with questions, blocking the way to breakfast, something that Ichigo seriously needed, especially coffee.

"Please shut up," he gritted out, trying to remain polite while pushing his way through the crowd. "You can ask me questions later, when I'm not tempted to rip all of your heads off." The quiet anger in his voice, along with a small pulse of reiatsu, silenced the students almost immediately, and they parted, allowing Ichigo to finally make his way into the Hall.

Taking his seat at the teacher's table, he immediately poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. Taking a long sip, Ichigo sighed in relief as the caffeine spread throughout his system. Perking up considerably, to the amusement of the other teachers, he rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Good morning, Captain Kurosaki," Dumbledore greeted him with a smile of amusement as Ichigo continued drinking coffee. "Have a good sleep?"

"Hardly," Ichigo replied as students began seating themselves with a clatter, the usual chatter and hubbub of mealtimes making themselves known to all present. "Damned Gryffindors celebrate too loudly, no offense, Minerva," he said with a roll of his eyes.

The elderly witch snorted. "Non taken, Captain Kurosaki," she said with a sniff. "Many a time have I had to tell the students to quiet down. But you can't really help it, they are still but mere children."

"And yet children can be exposed to horrible things," Ichigo mused aloud as he stirred cream and sugar into his third mug of coffee. "Many children around the world are not nearly as fortunate as those who attend Hogwarts. Child abuse, neglect, starvation, _war_," here he caught Luna Lovegood's intelligent gray eyes gazing at him from the Ravenclaw table, which he acknowledged with a short nod, "it changes them. Forces children to grow up at a rate much faster than they should. I heard a rumor that Lord Voldemort is rising again." He ignored the visible winces from the teachers. "If that is the case, I truly pity these children. War is something no child should have to experience first-hand."

"You seem to be very knowledgeable about the subject," Dumbledore noted with interest. "Can I safely assume that you have some experience in what you speak of?"

Ichigo nodded wearily. The night of sleeplessness had been long, and he had had a lot of time to think. Inevitably his mind had wandered to the war against Aizen, and he had spent the night agonizing over every decision he had made, every decision that had led to a victory or a defeat, to triumph or to the death of a subordinate. Those decisions were the ones that grated in Ichigo's conscience. He had visited the families of each shinigami who had fallen in battle under his command, and every time he was reminded of the life that had been lost.

"War is a terrible thing," he murmured quietly, gazing into his coffee tiredly, his shoulders sagging in weariness. "Being a commander in a war is even worse. Knowing that every choice you make could be the death of everyone you loved… it is a difficult burden to bear."

It was quiet as the witches and wizards took in Ichigo's words, the noise of breakfast fading into the background. Finally, Alastor Moody broke the silence. Gruffly, he asked, "were you in a war recently?"

Ichigo grunted in confirmation. "Yeah... War is a terrible thing," he repeated. "But this one was especially bad. It was a civil war, of sorts." Muted gasps came from some of the teachers. "I explained a little bit of our military system, but you need a thorough understanding of how it works. The Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Squads, or the Gotei 13, is divided into thirteen divisions. Each division is commanded by a Captain, who is assisted by a Vice-captain. The rank of Captain is signified by the white cloak with the symbol of the division embroidered on the back, and the Vice-captains wear brass armbands. You saw several of the Captains and Vice-captains yesterday when my friends came for the First Task. The Captains are the undisputed masters of their abilities, the strongest of each division. Under the Vice-captains are twenty seated officers, decreasing in strength as you move down the ranks. Beneath them are the unseated officers. Each division's total complement numbers about two hundred."

The wizards were impressed, and a little intimidated. With so many capable fighters, the Japanese equivalent of Aurors, Fudge had made a very serious mistake in antagonizing them. A force that large could take over magical Britain with almost no trouble at all.

"A few years ago, three of the thirteen Captains defected," Ichigo continued, heedless in his tiredness of the rapt attention the wizards were paying to his story. "The strongest of three divisions turned against the Gotei 13. They allied themselves with our enemies, and sought to destroy the Gotei 13 completely."

"But why?" Minerva McGonagall asked in dismay. "What reason would these three Captains have to turn against you?"

Ichigo chuckled bitterly. "Their leader, a rotten bastard named Aizen, wanted to become God. Don't ask me how, that's classified information. I'll spare you the gory details of the war that followed. We lost a lot of people in the war. I had only become Captain a few days prior, and suddenly being thrust into a commanding position was the hardest thing I've done. None of the Captains died, though some came close a few times, including myself." Ichigo's hand absently traced across his chest, where he knew underneath his clothing a large scar, courtesy of Ulquiorra Schiffer, the Cuatra Espada, marred his pectoral. "A lot of the lower-ranked members of our force died, some of them under my command. It was tough."

Ichigo suddenly became aware of the sympathetic, and borderline horrified, looks the teachers were giving him as the coffee finally kicked in, jolting him out of his semi-conscious, babbling state of mind. Coughing awkwardly, he dug into his food, mumbling through a mouthful of bacon, "Erm, sorry. I was babbling. If you don't mind, please don't bring up that topic again. It's not exactly one that I'm comfortable with sharing, if you know what I mean."

Despite his warning, Moody ventured a question. "So, this civil war. Is it one of the reasons that Japan has remained in isolation?"

Ichigo's ever-present scowl deepened, his gold eyes flashing in irritation. "Perhaps," he replied ambiguously, and left the topic there. He had already inadvertently revealed too much, both about the war as well as about the Gotei 13. Thankfully, magical Japan was still completely cut off from the rest of the world. For all intents and purposes, he was the only way an outsider could contact the Japanese magical government. Ichigo inwardly sighed. Piggybacking off the Japanese government was an incredibly risky gamble that he had taken in order to infiltrate Hogwarts. When this entire mission was over and Riddle was finally dead, there would be a _lot_ of memory wipes they would have to conduct.

#

Ichigo stood on the sandy shores of the lake, staring deep into its dark waters. He had been informed that the Second Task would take place in the lake. _In_ the damned lake. _Underwater_, of all places. Ichigo was many things and had many unique abilities, but breathing underwater was definitely not one of them. He rubbed his temples as he felt the beginnings of yet another headache set in. "How the hell am I supposed to act as security when the task is underwater…" he muttered, cursing under his breath. "I mean, I'm a decent swimmer, but hardly good enough to stay underwater for an hour. Can't ask the wizards to perform a spell on me to help me breathe underwater, despite them almost definitely being able to. That would just draw attention to the fact that I can't actually do magic… _dammit!_"

He began pacing, his boots making shallow imprints on the firm wet sand beneath him. "I can't ask them to change the Task," he continued muttering, running possibilities through his head, "since the hint in the Golden Eggs are already set. But more importantly, we haven't received any intel about Riddle and his subordinates' actions lately."

The last had been a murder in the tiny village of Little Hangleton, where the elderly gardener for the old Riddle estate had been found dead of unknown causes, with not a mark on him. It was obviously the work of a wizard using the Killing Curse. Ichigo knew that the Onmitsukidou investigators had detected signs of Riddle's reiatsu on the scene, as well as two others. He would have to send for the data on the two unknown reiatsu signatures, since it might be useful.

Ichigo's mind wandered to other matters, focusing on the dark reiatsu he had sensed on Moody, Snape, and Karkaroff's arms. They were a mystery as well, although Dumbledore seemed to trust them, or at the very least didn't _distrust_ them. The old man was definitely a shrewd one. He would have to see about asking around for information about the three suspicious characters, professors or not. This was a vitally important mission, and all factors had to be taken into account.

The crunch of feet on sand alerted Ichigo to another's presence. Without turning around, he felt the approaching person's reiatsu and relaxed a little bit, recognizing her signature. "Good morning, Luna-chan," he greeted the blonde with a smile.

"Good morning, Kurosaki-taicho," the Kira reincarnation replied, a wide smile also on her face, one that was slightly dreamy. Ichigo felt a stab of guilt. The sudden rush of memories had caused the young student to become unfocused at times as she was assaulted with a hundred years' worth of memories, many of which were extremely difficult for such a young soul to experience. Still, it was already done, and he might as well take advantage of a resource with knowledge of his mission and the mechanics of his organization, while also having access to the matters of the magical world. Although she was still a student, Luna could still be an immense help.

"Hey, Luna-chan," Ichigo said thoughtfully, turning to the blonde. "How would you like to help me with a little project of mine?"

#

I'M SORRY! Gah, losing inspiration for a story is a really crappy feeling to inspiration. So, it's been almost a month, and this chapter is really short. I'm not really sure where to go with this now. Agh, it tears me apart! Please, please, please, if anyone has any ideas on what I should write for the next big stage of this story, let me know. I need all the help I can get for this story now.

On another note, I'm putting _The Reaper_ on temporary hiatus for the month of November. This is because… November is National Novel Writing Month! NaNoWriMo is an event where writers attempt to write 50,000 words in one month. I will be participating in this event, so I won't be writing _The Reaper_ for all of November. Sorry for that, but on the plus side, my NaNoWriMo story will be the story that I wrote a summary for a few chapters ago. I'm not going to repost that summary in this author's note, so if you want to read it again, go back to whatever chapter it was posted in. The story will probably be more than 50,000 words, but I'm going to finish writing it before posting it. It's going to be another Bleach/Harry Potter Crossover, and after it's finished I'll probably post it in two-week increments. Also, if anyone has ideas for a title for the story, please PM me and let me know, since I don't have a formal title for it yet. I hope that once that one is finished, you'll enjoy and support it as much as you have for _The Reaper_ so far. Thanks so much for reading, drop a review, and again, I'm sorry that you waited so long for such a short chapter. See you in a while!

~fokker333


	21. Update

What's up? Ehehehe, so I'm sorry I haven't posted the next chapter for this in a long time, it's just that I've been busy. NaNoWriMo pretty much took up all my time in November, and then I had exams and stuff. I've just gone on break from school, so hopefully the next chapter for **The Reaper** will be up soon. Also, I've been busy with some other stories that I've been working on. For one, my NaNoWriMo project, entitled **A Common Enemy**, another Bleach/HP crossover that I've mentioned is now published on my profile. Additionally, for you Naruto fans out there, I've written a number of oneshots as a tribute to Neji (RIP). One of them, **Hand in Hand in Death**, is just a oneshot. Additionally, my sister, Say-theLastWord, and I are collaborating on a series of oneshots about Neji, entitled **Never Ending Story**, is also published. We're trying to have daily updates for those, and I'm doing weekly updates for **A Common Enemy**. This leaves me with quite limited time to write **The Reaper**, but I will do my best to get the next chapter up as soon as possible (hopefully before the New Years). So that's just a quick update on my writing situation right now. I encourage you all to go to my profile and check out my other stories if they interest you (shameless plug, I know), and I'll get to work ASAP on **The Reaper**. Happy Holidays!

~Fokker333


	22. Chapter 21

Ichigo sighed as he gazed across the lake. "What do you think?" he asked the blonde sitting beside him. "Any ideas?"

"You definitely won't be let into the lake," Luna said pensively. "Doesn't really matter if it's for security or not. The other representatives are already irritated that Hogwarts has two champions. They won't want to risk any more interference."

Ichigo nodded. "My thoughts exactly," he said, frustration beginning to show at the whole situation. "So basically our problem is this: how can we provide security over the task without breaking any of the rules that the judges have set for us?" Ichigo pondered.

"Why exactly are you actively trying to provide security for the Tournament, anyways?" Luna questioned.

"It came to the Gotei 13's attention that this Voldemort guy may be regaining his body soon, so they sent me to eliminate him before he could do any more damage," Ichigo replied. "Anyways, how are you doing, Luna? If we can't think of anything right now, we might as well think about it later."

"Well," she admitted, tugging at a lock of pale blonde hair, "it's been a little weird, to be perfectly honest. With all my memories of my old life, along with the ones of this one, sometimes I'm not certain whether I'm Izuru Kira, Vice-captain of the Third Division of the Gotei 13, or Luna Lovegood, third year Ravenclaw student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She looked a little distressed, which concerned Ichigo.

"To be frank, I have no idea how to deal with a situation like yours," Ichigo said, careful not to address the blonde by either _Luna_ or _Kira_. "And I'm afraid that I'm the last person on this world – and the other ones – qualified to play guidance counselor."

She giggled a little bit, and Ichigo's worry lessened a little. "Have you realized that we've been speaking in Japanese all this time?"

Ichigo's eyebrow lifted in surprise.

She elaborated. "I tend to speak in Japanese most of the time, even around the other students. It usually takes a conscious effort for me to speak in English, even though I'm fluent."

Ichigo nodded. "Makes sense," he remarked. "Probably because your old self spoke Japanese – hey, do you get offended or annoyed when I say that? 'Cause I can stop, if it does," he added quickly.

"It's fine," she said with a quirk of the lips. "It's just how it is. Although it does sound a bit weird, when you think about it."

He laughed. Indeed it did. "Right, well who do you want to be? When you're helping me, I mean. Think. Would it better to be Luna Lovegood or Izuru Kira?"

The blonde pursed her lips in thought. "In terms of power, Kira would be the best. But if we want to be low key and discreet, and fit in in order not to rouse suspicion, Luna would be the best." There was a pause, and she suddenly burst out laughing. "Listen to us talk," she gasped between breaths. "It's like I have multiple personalities and I can choose which one I use."

Ichigo laughed again, also seeing the humor of the situation.

#

"So how have the others been since I… died?" Luna asked.

Ichigo sighed. "I'm not gonna lie. It was hard, at first. Shuuhei and Momo were hardest hit, I think, along with Renji. It took a while for them to adjust."

She looked downcast, and Ichigo hurried to assure her. "They don't blame you, of course. If anything, it was my fault. I shouldn't have-"

"Bullshit," she cut him off, to his surprise and shock at her swearing. "I don't blame you for that, and neither do they. It wasn't your fault that we had incomplete intel, or that the weakest Espada turned out to be the strongest one. _It wasn't your fault_."

Ichigo sighed, and Luna smacked him across the head. "Snap out of it!" she said sharply. "I've heard of your tendency to go all self-loathing, and it's not happening on my watch, you understand, Kurosaki-taicho?"

A wry smile spread across his face, and he stood up, brushing sand from his clothing. "Yes, sir!" he saluted jokingly, and Luna giggled again. "Now, let's get to work. We need surveillance at the bottom of the lake where the 'hostages are going to be taken and held. I frankly don't trust the merpeople to keep their hands off."

Luna nodded. "I should be able to do that. I know some runes that will allow us to see and hear what's going on. If something does go wrong, then what?"

"Then I'll interfere," Ichigo said. "Officially, my job is to provide security, but I'm basically protecting Potter, since he's the one that Voldemort is supposedly after. But if any of the other champions get in trouble, I swear that none of them will get hurt."

Luna smiled. "Still living up to your name, Captain?"

"Of course," he said resolutely. "Always."

#

Ichigo sat at the staff table in the Great Hall during a dinner, lost in thought as he observed the Potter kid talking with his friends. He hadn't seemed to make much progress with the Golden Egg with the clue for the next task.

Ichigo frowned. The professors and staff seemed reluctant to provide him with information regarding the Second Task, and Ichigo wasn't quite sure why, although he had his suspicions. He had done thorough background checks on all the staff, including the ones of the other attending schools, and some of them were more than a little suspicious.

He now knew the source of the dark reiatsu that lingered on the forearms of Moody, Snape, and Karkaroff. The Dark Mark seemed to be an interesting and effective form of communications and summons, if a little inhumane. What concerned Ichigo was the people who apparently had them.

Karkaroff and Snape checked out, since they were both ex-Death Eaters: one apparently turned traitor, the other too cowardly to declare his allegiance. Moody, though…

Ichigo had thought the situation over for a long time. Why would a celebrated retired Auror have the lingering reiatsu of Death Eater mark when the man had so vehemently fought against them?

It made sense to Ichigo for Dumbledore to hire him to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. After all, who would know more about the subject than one who had done it as a career?

There was no way Moody was a Death Eater. That much Ichigo had confirmed, which left very few plausible explanations. The first and most likely of those was one that concerned Ichigo greatly. If this Alastor Moody was not actually the real Alastor Moody, and instead an imposter, where was the real one? And what threat did the imposter pose to the school, and to Potter in particular?

Moody was a formidable wizard and Auror. That this supposed imposter could overpower him and somehow take his form meant that the imposter was himself quite powerful. The reiatsu from the Dark Mark meant that the man was a follower of Voldemort, which begged the question: what was his goal? Was it to kill Potter, or target the boy in any way? Or was it simply to observe? Or was it to cause as much mayhem as possible?

"…Kurosaki?"

Ichigo snapped out of his thoughts, turning his attention to McGonagall, who had apparently been trying to get his attention. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment," he said truthfully. "Could you repeat that?"

McGonagall seemed to want to ask something, but apparently thought better of it. "I was just asking if you would be attending the Yule Ball."

"…I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know what that is," Ichigo said blankly.

Upon hearing this, several of the teachers looked at the orange-haired man, aghast expressions etched on their faces. "You don't know what the Yule Ball is?" the short Charms professor, Flitwick, asked in surprise.

"I'm afraid not," Ichigo said. "If it's a Western tradition, then chances are we don't celebrate it in Japan. We do, however, observe things like Christmas, Valentine's Day, and major holidays. Since it's the winter season and approaching that time of year, I assume that this Yule Ball is something to do with Christmas?"

"Correct," Dumbledore said merrily. "The Yule Ball is just that: a ball. It's a dance where the younger generation can have fun, as well as for the older ones to enjoy themselves a bit. The Yule Ball is a tradition we have at Hogwarts, and quite a popular one, too. You can feel free to invite your comrades to join us, as well. I'm sure you've never experienced anything quite like the Hogwarts Yule Ball."

Ichigo smiled at the thought of seeing his friends and family again. And, despite his tendency to avoid social gatherings of the sort, it seemed to be indeed quite an enjoyable event.

He nodded thoughtfully, considering the chances of not getting burned if he were to steal several captains from their duties again by Yamamoto. "And this is a formal event?" he asked absently, calculations running through his brain as he took into consideration the Captain-Commander's blood pressure, violent tendencies, and reactionary habits.

"That's correct," McGonagall said. "I assume that you do have formal clothing?"

"Certainly," Ichigo nodded.

"And you know how to dance?" another professor asked.

Ichigo smirked. "I've been told on several occasions that I am a most excellent dancer, despite the wholehearted efforts of my peers to convince me otherwise."

Severus Snape snorted. Whether it was out of amusement or disdain Ichigo couldn't tell. He chose to give the man the benefit of the doubt and chose the former. The ex-Death Eater was incredibly intelligent, something that Ichigo could appreciate, as well as brave. It had to take guts to turn traitor against the most powerful Dark Lord in generations.

Dumbledore clapped his hands cheerfully. "Excellent," he exclaimed. "Then you and your comrades shall be attending the Yule Ball," he said. "I shall have the house elves prepare extra seats for your friends."

"That's the plan," Ichigo said with a nod. "I don't know how many of them will be able to make it. Our boss gets annoyed when the higher-ranking people shirk their duties to go out and party. And when the old man – no offense – gets annoyed, well…" Ichigo shuddered. "Let's just say things tend to get unpleasant for some people."

Several of the people seated at the table laughed, and Ichigo settled back into his seat comfortably. If, at that moment, one were to look closely at the orange-haired man's eyes, one would have noticed that they were no longer a shade of intimidating gold, but had softened to a kinder, warmer amber.

#

Gah, this chapter is so filler-ish, although there is some character dynamics development between Ichigo and Luna/Kira. I hadn't intended it to be so, but Luna has quickly become one of the main characters of this story. Maybe I should make her one of the main characters instead of Harry. I don't have a really structured plotline to this story; I've been following the timeline of the book and basically writing what comes to mind…

So, remember in my little update thing that I promised that this chapter would be out before the New Year? Yeah, about that… I lied. Sorry. But life just does that to you sometimes, and you can't really do anything about it, right? So, again, I apologize for the lateness of the chapter. Hopefully as the school semester starts up again I will be able to write more (which is a little counter-intuitive, but I guess not having anything to do also adds to procrastination) and be able to update on a more regular basis.

Please go check out my other Bleach/HP crossover fic, **A Common Enemy**, on my profile. I promise that it'll be worth your time!

Thanks for reading, drop a review, and I'll see you next chapter!

This chapter has exactly 2013 words. Happy New Year everyone!

~fokker333


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